Malicious Protein
by AugustinianFrog
Summary: As bad as the Apollyon retrovirus was, it was at least merciful in that the end came quickly. This lurks and waits. The infected is lucky if the end comes within the week... Intermediary short story between Retrovirus and its upcoming sequel.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Because work on the Retrovirus sequel is going slow due to co-authorship wrangling plus the sheer weight that needs to be worked, I thought it would be a good idea to write a small prequel to the sequel. (If you follow.) This will help keep my writing sharp and perhaps give those who are looking forward to it something to chew on. With no further ado, here goes a relatively short work...

* * *

**_Data entry, personal log_**

**_Entry 37, second day of the seventh month_**

_The village is excited. Some of the men who have been scavenging around the countryside have stumbled upon some minerals. Turns out that it was a deposit of heavy metals which they believe the Alliance will be interested in. Everyone is very happy. All the adults are talking about how this will get jobs for everyone if there is a large vein of the stuff down there. We're only surprised we had not found it sooner. At least we won't be trying to make a living by scratching at the dirt and hoping for good crops. _

_The only downer today was old man Ferdinand. He said he was feeling a little sick today, a little numb. His hands were shaking something awful. His words were also coming out funny. We all hope he'll get better. Dad says its just old age. I guess he is getting old, after all._

**_Data entry, personal log _**

**_Entry 38, eighth day of the seventh month _**

_Dad came home very happy today. He said that they received word that the Alliance agreed to look into the mineral deposits. However, it'll take a couple of weeks before they can send a group of surveyors to check it out. They said the delay has something to do with a lack of manpower. All the men are getting excited that they'll be able to make more credits now since the Alliance will certainly need miners to extract the metals. _

_Ferdinand is not getting better. He's confined in bed and we can sometimes hear him shouting at night. Mother says its because he's having really bad nightmares. The doctor says that he doesn't know what it is but agrees with that its just because old man Ferdinand is getting, well, old. I really hope it isn't a sickness. There aren't a lot of good hospitals out here on the frontier. _

**_Data entry, personal log _**

**_Entry 39, seventeenth day of the seventh month_**

_Old man Ferdinand died. Everyone is very sad around here. Mother says that it is better now because at least he isn't in pain anymore. He was shaking so bad before he died. I couldn't help mother run some food over to help him and the family. It was too frightening to watch. He seemed angry, snapping and even trying to bite anything that got close. _

_I better go to bed soon. Dad is yelling at some of the men outside about making too much noise. Dad's bad mood tends to get let out on everyone if it gets too late. _

**_Data entry, personal log_**

**_Entry 40, eighteenth day of the seventh month_**

_One of the men that dad was yelling at last night stumbled and fell on the ground. He couldn't walk straight and just kept falling. At first Dad thought it was just because they were drinking too much but then we found out that they weren't in fact drinking. All of the men weren't but they still couldn't talk seem to be acting just like Old man Ferdinand was. It's so frightening.  
_

_The doctor is getting worried. It seems like everyone is afraid all of a sudden. I swear, even my friends seem like they're starting to shake with fear. Dad says that we shouldn't worry about it. Besides, it'll get better when the Alliance surveyors get here. We're all just probably excited about everything going on. _

**_Data entry, personal log _**

**_Entry 41, twentieth day of the seventh month _**

_It's so horrible! Half the town is staggering around with the shakes. Most of them can't even talk. They just yell and scream and some even laugh like there is no tomorrow. The doctor is doing all he can but even he doesn't know what's going on. It's getting real bad. I can tell because I saw the doctor today. His lip was twitching like mine do when I'm afraid or sad. We can't even keep the people in their homes because they seem out of their minds. I can't even play with my friends because they aren't themselves. Mom says its dangerous to be around them now.  
_

_Dad has decided that we should always keep the door locked and that we should only stay inside. Only he goes outside to get supplies and now he and mom are stockpiling on food. I really hope this all goes away. I really hope everything gets better. I don't like being scared. It's...it's making my hands shake._

**_Data entry, log _**

**_Entry 42, twenty fifth day of the sev month _**

_So bad. So bad. Dad never came home. Mom does nothing but scream. I looked outside today. Light. Light too bright. So bright. Can't see. Fuzzy. Like my nose. Fuzzy nose. Everyone is sleeping outside. Should probably join them. Smell is strong. Strong smells. Fuzzy. Fuzzy. Bright. Sleep. Sleepy sleep. Shakes. My hands...help.  
_

_Dat L_

_trye 3935 dkwwioe of wehie_

_dwieh. Tastieeee Hoongary. Ckpejww. Food. Must eiwawit. Bloaoadod. So moouch. Coonthie. Llepwiet. Rriegue. Hungry. Dhieo. Eyiwned. Tireded. Eieoedd. Oeuwoedw. Deeadd, sooooeie..._

_..._

When Alliance surveyors recovered this document, the entire village had been devoid of life for at least several days. The infectious agent that exterminated the whole population has not yet been identified. Council agents have declared a mass quarantine of the area.

The quarantine radius was extended when government agents started to display similar symptoms. All of the infected have since expired. The identity of the pathogen is still unknown...

_**...Malicious Protein...**_


	2. Chapter 2

Darn humans, they just don't know how to take care of themselves. First they ticked off the Turians on their very first blunder into space. Then they got into a war with said Turians. After that, they fumbled their way through the galactic government. By some miracle they just got their first Spectre and by yet another twist of events, they got their first Council seat. Now, after more forays into the great unknown, here in the Exodus Cluster, they seemed to be getting sick. The only thing to their favor? No one else had a clue what was making them sick.

The Salarian Council agent, Eulias let the mental rant vent through his brain. The last thing his Asari comrade wanted to hear was more of his ramblings on humans and their current incompetency. Granted, Siera was certainly more compassionate than he was, but honestly. Why didn't the humans _thoroughly_ research this place before up and building up a whole village out in the middle of nowhere?

"What are you thinking about?" Siera asked, her dark mahogany eyes glancing on him as they continued walking towards their destination.

"Why couldn't the humans make sure something like this wouldn't happen so that we wouldn't be here in the first place?" Eulias reported. Siera rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Eulias. How could they have possibly foreseen this?" the Asari sighed.

"They could have at least tried." the Salarian grumbled.

"You can be such a cold stone sometimes." the taller Asari chided her amphibian friend. Eulias was at least two feet shorter than her, a lot more lithe, with black and yellow patterns running over his mostly deep green skin.

"Hey, it would have been for their own good too." Eulias defended, emphasizing his point with an outstretched finger.

"Yes, but accidents do happen. That's why we have a job, Eulias. We help when accidents happen." the Asari explained.

"Hmm...I suppose..." the Salarian mumbled.

These two had been working for Council space for several years. Their jobs laid more with medical investigations, both having more training in field research rather than actual lab work. The two had been partnered up at the beginning of their career so now the two knew each other's personality fairly well. Of course, they also received minimal training in the use of pistols, as evidenced by the Striker pistols on their hips. Just in case.

"So what are we suppose to do again?" Siera asked, her voice as soft as the breeze that slowly ruffled past them.

"That little settlement over there is the only one within ten miles from the village and just outside the quarantine zone. We're suppose to ask anyone living there if they know anything about what happened." Eulias explained patiently.

"Gotcha."

The two agents walked up to the rather secure looking mechanical door of the compound. There was a rather awkward moment as they both tried to figure out what to do. Siera cleared her throat while Eulias squinted, trying to figure out how to best open the door.

"Identify yourselves." an electronic voice suddenly called to them. Siera and Eulias tried to hide their shock.

"We are agents Eulias and Siera V'lieri of the Council government. We are here to ask you a few questions." the Salarian agent explained. The electronic voice made a strange noise.

"Did it just say...'hmph?'" Siera muttered to Eulias. The latter simply shrugged.

"Fine. If you must." the electronic voice declared and the door easily slid open.

"Well, here goes nothing." Siera muttered as they walked inside.

--

Dr. Pelona Sivini had worked for Citadel Extreme Medical Situation Response for exactly half of her two hundred year life span. The serious looking Asari woman had spent the majority of her career stationed on the Citadel studying in the state of the art labs. Her specific wing dealt with research in pathogens, basically the things that make organics sick, whatever that may be. Poisons, toxins, bacteria, viruses and parasites; name it, she probably had dealt with it. She could even tack the retrovirus Apollyon S1 strain on her macabre resume. She could probably also thank the virus for putting her in this current situation.

She had been one of the first physicians on site when the first breakout occurred in the Citadel Central Bank. Having been able to work (and survive) with such a devastating organism put an unspoken badge of merit on every single individual involved, at least in the eyes of the superiors above them. The Asari's analytical eyes scanned the paperwork in front of her through her small glasses. She decided the reasoning of her superiors was that if she lived through a ravenous virus that was hard to identify, then clearly she would have no problem getting shoved into another mysterious pathogen drama far from the Citadel where no one had a clue what this pathogen was this time. Oh, the logic of bureaucracy.

So now here she was in a makeshift lab just outside of what was the human frontier colony of Uruk in the Exodus Cluster. Continuing to study the papers in front of her, she read off the specimens that were detailed in the writings. For each report there was the appropriate body bag just to her side. She glanced to the other side for a moment to spot her longtime assistant and friend walking in before returning to the data.

"How are you, Harrvok?" the Asari asked.

"I'm still alive, which is more than can be said for these poor souls." the Turian muttered. Pelona let a crooked frown furrow her lips before shooting an apologetic glance at the Turian. Harrvok had been serving for the Citadel Extreme Medication Situations Response for several years and was also with her during the Apollyon outbreak. Pelona remembered when he first got onboard the team. He had been a Turian battlefield medic who had seen at least three tour of duties through pirate infested areas. At first, she was in agreement with her peers that Harrvok was a little cold and caustic. However, she later learned that underneath those tough Turian scales was a big heart. Harrvok's hard exterior and attitude was the only defense he had against something that he had to face on a daily basis with his work: death.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Pelona inquired, placing a comforting hand on one of his talons which was preparing to unzip a body bag. The Turian hesitated.

"Eh, you know how much I wish people could live forever." the Turian muttered.

"In our line of work, how is it that you keep on wishing?" the Asari teased as only a friend could.

"Because I'm stubborn...Now, what do we have here?"

"Human female, between the ages of fifteen to nineteen standard years. Records are still trying to get an identification. She was found in one of the houses near a computer terminal, the same one we recovered the electronic journal." Pelona read without showing any emotions. You just couldn't do that in this line of work.

"Cause of death?" Harrvok asked.

"That's what we're hear to find out."

These first six bodies laid quietly, neither holding tightly to their secrets nor freely giving them. They would only give up their stories if they were persuaded the right way. Harrvok decided to start the biological dialog with a simple, archaic but effective instrument as he asked Dr. Pelona for it.

"Scalpel."

--

Eulias and Siera found that the outside metal casing of the home was a good deception to what was inside. The furnishings were actually warm and welcoming with a lot of ornamental chairs, tables and other objects made of the local wood. Scattered all over the habitation were what appeared to be sketches and notes scribbled down in a hurried fashion.

"Hello?" Siera called curiously.

"What do you want?" a voice asked them rapidly, as if lacking in patience.

Stepping from the side appeared yet another Salarian, this one looking even more smaller and frail than Eulias. Regardless, the amphibian still commanded an air of purpose about him. That purpose also seemed to be lacking in patience.

"What do you need?" the Salarian demanded. Once again, Eulias and Siera were at lost with what to say.

"We are agents of the Council on an investigation. Are you familiar with the village seven miles east of here?" Siera asked. The newcomer seemed to cock an eyebrow in a dissatisfied way.

"Of course I am. You came all this way to ask me about that?"

"Of course not, now change your attitude or we can let things get rough from here. Who are you, what are you doing here?" Eulias demanded.

"I am Chroso. I'm what you would call a hermit and archaeologist. I've been studying the local history around here." the Salarian explained, calming his tone.

"Interesting. What do you know about the village?" Eulias stated quickly, clearly showing he was not in fact interested at all with Chroso's research.

"You mean Uruk? Confounded pain in every cerebral hemisphere I have. That human shanty town has been interfering with my research for years." Chroso growled.


	3. Chapter 3

Dalora Algre felt her hands burn as they strangled the large wrench in her hands. She was not in the best of moods. It had been a long day, she was tired and dirty and as much as she liked this wrench, it did not provide a very good outlet for the anger she was harboring for a certain wench in front of her.

She thought "wench" because her moral convictions wouldn't let her use a more foul word. She also realized she couldn't let out her anger on all Alliance pilots. Sure, a lot of them were cocksure and rash, but not all of them were bad. She herself was dating an Alliance pilot whom she thought was head and shoulders above most other men.

Except this one Alliance pilot had a bad habit of zealously flirting with other men and then finding ways to pester her as a lowly mechanic. She normally wouldn't care for rumors, or perhaps the blatantly obvious. Regardless, tts hard to keep things discreet when most Alliance pilots walking by had that particular flirt's name on their conversations. Normally, she wouldn't care but Theresa Robins was the type of person to grate on her personality; especially when she tried talking to her.

"Hey, are you the one that worked on my fighter yesterday?" Theresa asked her. Dalora wiped a bead a sweat from her brow and looked up at the pilot, her hazelnut hair that was tied in a bun almost matched her very own hair color which she kept tied back in a braid. Similarities of course, ended there.

"Yes." Dalora answered quickly before getting back to work.

"Well, make sure you do a better job. The routers do not seem to be functioning as quick as they could be." Theresa stated. Dalora drew in a deep breath before trying to answer as calmly as possible.

"You know, sometimes the problem isn't the mechanic's handiwork, but the abilities of the pilot who cannot operate the machine." the mechanic retorted. Theresa raised an eyebrow while she idly popped the bun on her head.

"Someone needs to chill out. You know, maybe you should cool down at the bar with the guys. I don't normally care for competition but you might just need something or someone to loosen up."

"No thanks. I'm sure I have better things to do." Dalora muttered, the long braid of her hair swishing like a whip as she worked furiously in trying to maintain the fighter she was working on. She was at least thankful that Theresa had left.

"Why should I compete for scumbags, anyway?" the mechanic grumbled.

Granted, life seemed to be in a bit of a rut for the mechanic. Sure, she was doing honest work for relatively good pay. It was an improvement over petty mercenary work. However, life just seemed like an endless stretch of barren land, even beyond the drama of her job. All of her time was spent working so she had little time to socialize, not that she knew anyone anyway. The weekly Mass she went to was fine, except that it was missing something. Actually, that something was really someone who was in fact missing from more than the Mass. He was missing in, well, everything. Of course, it wasn't his fault that he got recalled on a mission. Dalora sighed as she walked back to her apartment.

"God, I miss him..." Dalora whispered to her Maker. She was greeted by a small mew as soon as she stepped into the door.

At least one thing was going right today. Her new calico kitten had behaved itself and did not tear up the apartment like it usually did. The feline was given to her as an apology gift and also a companion to keep her company just before he left. Both of them had not expected the Alliance to so quickly throw him on a mission. He had been given the impression that brass wouldn't so frivolously send him anymore. Apparently, they were wrong and ever since that happened two weeks ago the gnawing pain of loneliness was a constant companion. As a matter of fact, it even got a hold of the kitten which apparently suffered from separation anxiety when she was gone.

It was kind of cute, really. She was anxious because he was gone and so he gave her this cat that became anxious when she was gone. Unlike the cat, she had to behave herself and not tear up everything in her path which the kitten was only just learning to do. Of course, the first few days of the deleterious behavior only served to give her the name she christened the cat with.

"Well, you were good today, weren't you, Fiasco?" she teased the kitten who was happily purring at her ankle. At least the little happy ball of fluff made things just a little bit better. She wasn't sure about how she felt with wet little kitten kisses on her toe but at least one of them was really happy.

Perhaps another problem was the fact that she had no clue where the shower, dinner, quiet time on her couch before passing off into sleep went. She wasn't even sure if she had a dream. In fact, it seemed like all she could remember was those previous night's event as some sort of faded recording and then suddenly finding herself back at work, same trusty wrench in hand with the same Alliance pilot jerks to deal with. Dalora sighed and let the hours just grind by.

Some time past lunch the mechanic solemnly stumbled back into the holding bay where yet another wing of returning fighters needed to be worked on. She sighed to herself as she chose a fighter that was all alone with no other mechanic to tend to it. It became apparent that this one had just recently been docked here. It still smelled of spent fuel and element zero. Popping open one of the component bays, she glanced at the internal hardware and began her usual diagnosis. She stopped when she suddenly realized this hardware was not part of Alliance regulations. Dalora also realized that she recognized them very well. Something skipped within her chest as she glanced up at the canopy, hoping, praying to find what she so desperately wanted it to be.

Her eyes fell on an intricately detailed, if small, emblem engraved just below the cockpit. The image depicted a screaming eagle, eyes fiercely pointed ahead as its body and feathers seemed to radiate an inferno of flames. Just above the emblem was the call sign and above that, the name of the pilot. "_Flaming Eagle_. Lt. Lucas Von Seraph."

No overtime work tonight. She wouldn't have it.

--

The Turian was so bored he could have cried. In fact, he could have bashed his brains out against the wall. At least it would have given him something to do. Something, anything, to break this mind numbing monotony!

Julland Sarrix realized he did not have a lot to complain about. Really, he was almost living one of his wildest dreams. Once, he had been disgraced field commander defrocked of his rank and transferred to productively rot as an officer at C-Sec. Somewhere in the ocean of paperwork, he wondered if he could at least live his dream again: to serve out there in the Council, taking care of the real problems, doing real justice rather than stamping tickets on common delinquents, loiterers and making sure Hanar had evangelical permits.

Now here he was, XO of a superb military frigate under the command of a Spectre that gave him a wide sense of autonomy and a fine crew to man the ship. In fact, the same frigate already came with a group of elite Asari marines who were very cooperative and respected him. He couldn't have even dreamed this up with his mostly bland imagination. It was almost too good.

Of course, the glitch in the system was that the Spectre was chosen for her medical skills. This wasn't a problem, it was just that her current medical skills were being employed to develop a high security top secret lab which served as research and defensive facility. The purpose was to house and secret a rather devastating virus here on the planet of Jartar. His problem problem was that there was nothing for _him_ to do. Nevermind that the crew also felt the same way, he was getting a bad case of cabin fever on top of a testy type A personality.

It had been a big relief when the facility was installed with a virtual simulation chamber so he could practice and hone his combat skills but that could only keep him preoccupied ever so long. Practicing with his rifles at the range could only be interesting to a certain point. Gosh darn it, he needed to get out of this place!

Julland pondered this as he restlessly paced the hall. The Turian came to remember that a lot of things got done by simple vocalization. In fact, he was the second in command of the _Shiloh._ He could in a way call it his own frigate, even if Spectre and Doctor Jima'Riznah vas Shiloh was the one who really owned it. Regardless, when he spoke, things got done. Perhaps there way a way a certain workaholic Quarian could be persuaded to send him on some kind of mission, even if it was just an errand. He would go all the way to the other side of the galaxy just to pick up a cup of coffee at this point.

Julland found Jima in the central area of the new Gatekeeper facility. You couldn't miss her. She was a shorter Quarian with a white and blue environmental suit. Today, the Spectre also donned the white lab coat of a doctor. She had taken up the habit of wearing that thing claiming it gave her "receptacles to place things." These were normally called "pockets" but such wonders were hard to come by on Quarian environmental suits.

"Ahem, Jima..." Julland coughed, wondering how he was going to start this request.

"Yes, Julland?" Jima chirped pleasantly.

"I was...erm...wondering..." Julland nervously clicked his paw talons together. This was the problem, he was probably the battle hardened field commander but he would never try to intimidate or wrongfully manipulate Jima.

"Look, is there a way we can get out of here?" Julland blurted.

"What do you mean?" the Quarian asked, tilting her head. Julland wished that visor of hers didn't hide her facial features. By now he could be getting a huge clue on why he should make himself scarce if he was asking the wrong question. Well, it was do or die at this point.

"Look, I know you've been busy overseeing this project, but the crew have kind of been loitering around here. Talana is complaining her eyes hurt because the flight simulator irritate her eyes after using it so many times. The maintenance crews have gone so far checking the _Shiloh_ inside and out so much they were forced to repaint the ship for lack of anything better to do. They've already polished it so many times they may have to repaint it again because they busted off the coat they just put on. Even Merjj has had the boys in engineering rewire the core in so many different configurations they probably found a few systems that no one has even thought about!" Julland explained, tossing his talons to the air. It at least felt better to get that off his chest.

"Hmmm..." Jima tapped a finger where her chin would have been as if in thought.

"You know what, Julland..."

"What's that?" the Turian asked cautiously.

"You're right. Let's take a vacation."


	4. Chapter 4

"You do understand that the Uruk village has been eradicated by a mysterious illness, do you?" Eulias asked Chroso. The Salarian archaeologist seemed to be just a little bit shocked by the news. It became clear that he had not known about that, his hesitation displayed that much.

"No, I was not aware of that. How long ago was the village...cleared?" Chroso asked, his tone becoming almost apologetic.

"Alliance surveyors came by exactly a week ago. The Council has since stepped in." Siera explained.

"If you're getting ideas about starting to do your research there with them gone, you will be unable to. A quarantine begins three miles from here in the direction of Uruk." Eulias added.

"I gathered that much as well. All right, do you have any further questions, seeing that I was not even aware that the village met its demise?" Chroso asked.

"When was the last time you had any contact with anyone from the village?" Eulias inquired.

"It has been several months, too long for me to pinpoint the time. No, I saw no signs of them acting funny." Chroso stated, starting to observe the sketches on a nearby desk.

"Astute of you to guess my next question. Have there been any visitors here or anything else unusual or out of place?"

"No. It is unusual for the villagers to pass by this direction. They grow and supply their own food. There are no roads which is why they have to use the rovers or arrange for an aircraft pickup. I mostly keep to myself here so I had very little contact with them, even when I was trying to research in the area."

"What were you trying to research?" Siera asked curiously.

"I have reason to believe that there may be buried artifacts of an ancient indigenous population under the village. Of course, I can't go about ordering a large hole to be dug where their village and crops are sitting on so I decided to go back to the drawing board." Chroso explained.

"I see..." Siera murmured, taking the information in thoughtfully. Chroso decided that if he hadn't known better that the Asari was trying to be thorough in her analysis, he would have thought her as slow of wit.

"Very well, I think that's all we have for now. We will drop by again if we have any further questions." Eulias informed, turning towards the door.

"As you wish." Chroso muttered.

--

The the pale light reflected off the sterile and lifeless surfaces of the makeshift morgue. The empty illumination proved to be the only candlelight vigil for the deceased Human girl, her torso rudely split open in the hopes that they would at least point to an answer. Harrvok waited in grim silence as Pelona ran tests on the various organs.

"So far everything appears normal. Nothing out of place for a body that has been dead for several days." the Asari noted as she continued to collect samples.

It was sadly true, at least in that they had not found a single clue to point them to what might have been the cause of death. No obvious signs of degeneration or internal bleeding, no obvious signs of irritation in any of the internal organs, not even excessive signs of trauma.

"Digestive track seems mostly clear, suggesting that she did not eat for awhile just before death." Pelona continued to observe. Harrvok was still doing exploratory surgery.

"Not quite...she had one quick meal just before death..." the Turian stated, fishing out a foreign substance from her esophagus.

"What is that?" the Asari whispered. Harrvok examined it with prying eyes.

"If I were to guess...I'd say meat of some kind."

"Here, just let me take that for analysis. The less we speculate now, the better. That way we'll more readily accept what the tests tell us." the Asari doctor stated.

"Very well..."

No signs of poisoning, no out of place discoloration other than the pigmentation made by the settling of blood where the body came to rest. Not a single foreign object that would have done any internal trauma. The Turian was clearly becoming disheartened already. Pelona knew that that was just because he wasn't happy with what he was seeing. He wanted an answer to at least bring some kind of closure. When he said he wished people lived forever, he wasn't exaggerating. However, she also knew she could trust him to hold his own.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say it appeared she just dropped dead." Harrvok grumbled.

"Well, there is one place left that we did not examine." Pelona said softly. Harrvok knew the answer though he did not want to acknowledge it. The Turian looked sadly at the decease's face. Even the Turian could say that she had been pretty in life as more than a faint whisper of it remained on her in death. Any young human male would have fought for this girl's attention. Unfortunately, beauty is only skin deep and the work of an autopsy was extremely unforgiving and blunt. Her long dark hair that she had probably prized in life would have to be shaved off, the scalp sliced open, the skull penetrated only so that they could glance at the brain. The Turian set down his scalpel and picked up a shaver.

"Forgive me..." the former battlefield medic whispered.

--

The road back to the camp that had been set up by the Citadel Extreme Medical Situations Response team was relatively quiet if a bit rough. Siera would have openly admitted that she was not devoting too much thought to what Chroso had said. After a couple years, she learned she could trust Eulias to already be formulating an opinion as well as a professional answer if he didn't have one already. The Salarian was as astute as he was hard headed and Siera wondered if that often went hand in hand with some being. Regardless, the Asari knew that it would take her some time to reflect and ponder everything that had transpired, not just the base value of the dialog itself. Reflection could not be rushed. Watching the beautiful fading light of the sun was a good way to keep things slow. She wondered if her for a moment if her caution in making most decisions quickly these days was a sign that she was entering her Matron stage.

"So what do you think?" the Asari asked curiously, still watching the sunset.

"About Chroso's story? Hmph, I'd still keep an eye on him, but I don't think he's harboring anything suspicious. I highly doubt he'd have the capabilities to manufacture a pathogen that we are not only unable to identify, but wipe out a whole human village." Eulias reported.

"I get the same impression." Siera concurred blankly.

"Plus, he has the wrong training." Eulias added.

"What?"

"I noticed the sketches and other research he had lying around. All of them are focused on his studies of history and archeology so the whole story checks out. That's not to say he could be hiding more stuff, but I see no reason to start harassing him yet."

"Hmm...good." Siera stated. Eulias looked back up at her.

"Yeah, you were never one for confrontation." the Salarian smirked.

"Oh, be quiet." Siera shushed with a smile.

Eulias knew that he did come across as a bit of a prick sometimes. It wasn't that he didn't care but there was just little room to make mistakes in a big bad galaxy out there. He recalled old tutors and mentors in life repeating this mantra; "bad ideas can kill." The Salarian didn't take it lightly. Bad ideas and bad planning could indeed take lives and it was often for very avoidable reasons. Once again going back to humans, if perhaps they had been just a little more cautious and had done some more careful planning and had not perhaps had the bad idea to blow crap up, the First Contact War could probably have been avoided with the Turians. He also knew that humans weren't the only ones who could be accused of having a monopoly of bad ideas. Every race in both Council space and the Terminus systems had their fair share of stupidity. That was all the more reason for them to they should all try to cut down on them. It didn't take that much effort.

The cool evening air was already starting to make them drowsy. Even Eulias realized that his own hyperactive metabolism was going to need that hour sleep in awhile. His Asari counterpart on the other hand was going to need several more hours than that.

In fact, Siera was already throwing off her boots as soon as they entered the bunks of the camp's various housing quarters. They had set up camp about a mile away outside from the quarantine area. The facilities were a bit shoddy, as can be expected from hastily erected habitations but at least they were cozy. Wearily, Eulias glanced at his cot and noticed a small datapad lying there that he had not left there. The amphibian picked it up and read the message quickly, his eyes rapidly darting.

"What's that about?" Siera asked, collapsing heavily on her bunk.

"Seems like they want us to do some exploration in the contamination zone tomorrow. Get some rest, you'll need it." Eulias answered.


	5. Chapter 5

Dalora could not help but smile as she almost literally dashed out of the work bay. The end of her shift could not come soon enough. She also couldn't help darting her head in all directions, hoping to find him and at the same time walking as fast as she could to her apartment. As much as she wanted to see him, wherever he was, she couldn't let him see her like this. He had been gone for over two weeks and she absolutely did not want to be covered in grease, industrial compound and sweat when they would finally meet after all this time. Two sides in her waged all out war in dying to find him and at the same time praying she could take a shower first. Her emotions were so close to topping over she didn't notice the people around her, just a single tunnel vision in the direction to her apartment. She was so zoned she was almost startled when an Alliance pilot appeared out of nowhere and enveloped her in a tight embrace. She almost cried. It was so good.

"Lucas! Lucas, you're home!" Dalora squealed.

"Oh gosh, you don't know how bad I wanted to see you." Lucas chuckled. Truth be told, Lucas Von Seraph was overjoyed to see her. The problem was that he also badly wanted to sleep. His head was pounding with fatigue and it was only the blast of water from a quick shower that momentarily woke him up. After a day or two traveling in a star fighter, anyone would start to turn a little ripe.

It was very well established that the two were thrilled to see each other. Despite her obvious emotions, Dalora still wanted to get out of her dirty work clothes. Unknown to her, Lucas was making it his utmost goal not to keel over and pass out. He had hated himself everyday for the past two weeks for leaving Dalora alone and he wasn't about to let his body screaming for rest to drown out his need to make her happy. He kept telling himself it would only be a few more hours, just a few more hours.

Lucas found his body rebelling against him when he tried to place an arm around Dalora's waist, only to miss completely and simply land on his side. Dalora didn't seem to notice. In fact, she simply latched onto his arm and held him close as if afraid he would slip away like water.

"Wait here, I have to take a shower first." Dalora said as they both stepped into her apartment. Fiasco the kitten was more receptive to Dalora despite the fact that she almost didn't notice the kitten. In contrast, the feline then seemed to regard Lucas with an air of caution.

"Hey there, little guy. I doubt you remember me even though I'm the one that picked you out." Lucas greeted the cat. Fiasco only mewed malcontentedly.

Lucas did his best to catch a catnap on the couch while Dalora hurriedly tried to get through her shower ritual. It wasn't till after Lucas startle to settle that Fiasco suddenly decided he was okay with the newcomer and actually tried to take a catnap himself on Lucas.

"Hey, you can't be tired yet." Dalora stated, stepping into the room.

_"Sweetheart, you can't imagine." _Lucas thought and looked up at her. Despite the aches and sores that still hounded him, he couldn't help but smile.

_"Oh God...you made her beautiful...I don't know why, she just is." _It didn't matter that she was wearing a simple white sweater and black felt slacks or that she just had simple silver ear rings. The soldier immediately became self conscious about what he threw on. Black Alliance military sweater and matching cargo pants with the same military boots. Usual outfit as always.

"Come on, I'm sure you are sick of rations, let's eat out!" Dalora announced, continuing to drag him. Lucas was just a little sad about leaving the couch. He swept Dalora up in a hug instead.

Dalora did not know where the night went. She didn't really care, she only knew that those few hours before midnight were not long enough. One moment they were chatting away at a restaurant the next they're both standing at a large window just gazing into the foreboding beauty of space. Despite the comforting light of the numerous stars and the sudden sparks of passing celestial wonders the only thing she could think of was that Lucas was finally home. She wondered when she ever felt this happy and realized that throughout her life, from an orphan captured by Batarians to a mercenary working for the very scum she swore to eradicate, this was what she was looking for all her life. She was looking for someone she knew who would love her unwaveringly. She almost didn't register it when Lucas took her up and placed her in her bed.

"I will see you in the morning." he whispered softly in her ear, carefully pulling the covers to her chin. Just before he left, he kissed her on the forehead.

Lucas wasn't sure how he felt. He was relieved to be home. He was ecstatic to see Dalora again. Regardless, his ever brooding conscience was still grinding in him despite his overclouded mind. The reason for that became apparent when he simply collapsed onto his couch, too tired to reach his bed. The commando suddenly yelled out in agony, grasping a spot on his chest. He realized his sweater was becoming wet and discolored. Apparently, medigel wasn't quite perfected yet. He took off his sweater and forced himself to find a spare pack of medigel he knew he had lying around. On his chest, dangerously close to his heart, was an angry large scab that had a larger counterpart on his back. His sudden collapse on the couch had aggravated it and it had erupted anew. Fresh blood was slowly running down his front. It was a silent witness of an enemy sniper round that broke through his shield and armor, punctured his chest and shot out of his back. The field medic that examined him said if the round was just a half inch closer to the right his heart would have ruptured in an instant.

Lucas knew he was in a transition period. He had to stop doing things the way he had. He had never really feared death. His religious convictions made him confident in his immortal soul and the same convictions almost obligated him to the sense of willingly trying to lay down his life for others under fire. Before, he had little to live for. His had disappointed his parents and buried himself in his work for the Alliance, further isolating himself. He wondered if he was an adrenaline junkie, always willing to take the most suicidal missions, no matter how much he complained about them. He walked away mostly intact from each one and still he would not turn down the next one to come up. He could even admit he barely survived an atomic explosion.

But now things were different. He was realizing the profound effect a single woman can have on a brooding man's life. He could not keep putting himself in danger. He owed Dalora something. He could never hurt her and he realized that almost beyond his own volition, he had been drawn to her. He couldn't build her up like this and then hurt her so much if he died. The painful wound was almost closed now, he just had to be easy on it. He wondered if the burning pain close to his heart was a kind of penance for his carelessness.

--

Dalora realized she had not stopped smiling. Everything seemed different, brighter. Even the tar like industrial fluid and grease stains seemed to glow. The woman suddenly realized this was probably what it felt like to be high. She remembered Lucas mentioning it had something to do with endorphines. If such was the case, her brain was happily drowning in them.

"Hey, I saw you with a guy last night." Theresa's voice suddenly interrupting her work. Dalora looked up at her, still grinning.

"So, guess you're human like the rest of us, huh? How'd _it_ go?" the pilot asked. Dalora smirked and walked up to her.

"For your information, nothing like what you're suggesting happened."

"Oh really?" Theresa asked skeptically.

"Oh yes. You see, at least I can be confident that he loves me for who I am, not for my prowess in bed or my physical assets. I have no doubt about that. Can you say the same?" Dalora shot with a smirk, finally glad to vent her full opinion. Theresa left abruptly with a scoff, clearly offended. Dalora didn't care, she was glad she could get back to work. Almost immediately she felt yet another shadow fall over her just when she started working on the landing gear of another craft.

"Hey, could I talk to you for a moment?" a voice asked. Dalora inwardly sighed. Honestly, how helpless were most Alliance pilots? She looked up at yet another woman pilot, this one looking much younger, almost a new recruit. She had short blonde hair with soft green eyes. Dalora relaxed and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"What can I help you with?"

"Oh nothing. I just noticed that Theresa has always been giving you a hard time. Thanks for sticking up to her like that. Someone needed to pop that inflated ego of hers."

"Well...thanks." Dalora answered, shaking the pilot's hand.

"My name is Sarah Wallis." the pilot introduced herself.

"Dalora. Dalora Algre."

--

Lucas rolled off the couch, just beginning to wake up. It was nice to sleep in something soft for once but his mind was already grinding out faster than his body would ever hope to catch up to. In all honesty, he felt that he needed to do some soul searching on a decision that had been pestering him for awhile, a decision he had not made up his mind on. He only knew of one thing to do.

He set his omni-tool to play every single gregorian chant he had loaded onto it. In a few moments, his kitchen was wafting with the rich smell of authentic chai as he continued to meditate, continued to pray for divine guidance. His eyes still closed, he walked into the one room of his apartment that he treasured above all others, his library. He had some serious reading to do.

Language is a very simple but very important thing. It is so subtle, but like theology, the slightest variation can have catastrophic ramifications. He knew that his decision very much involved language, all the more reason he continued to pray. He pulled out an old Greek text and started to read the ancient language, one that was painfully taught to him during those bygone years in the seminary. He found it ironic as he read the text and listened to the chant on his computer. The two languages clashed even though they spoke of the same words.

"Pater Noster qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum.

Adveniat regnum tuum,

fiat voluntas tua,

sicut in caelo et in terra..."

"_Pater hemon ho en tois ouranois, agiasthetoo to onima sou. _

_Elthatoo he basileia sou, _

_geneetheetoo to theleema sou_

_oos en ouranoi kai epi gees..."_

Lucas harbored no hostility to those who were skeptical about faith. However, no one could convince him otherwise that what he believed in was real. Of course, that was also why he tried to be as ecumenical as possible. It was his strongest belief that God was much bigger than they could ever hope to fathom, but yet still the ancient creeds dictated where his ideals were anchored. It also made him wonder if his Lord had time to deal with a decision as trivial as this. Well, was it that trivial? It didn't seem that way to him.

Still in prayer, his mind in the heavens, his soul lifted elsewhere, he looked up beyond the book he was reading and his glance fell on the image before him. No sooner had that happened, he could almost feel a divine whisper speak to him, as real as he could have imagined it. It was a reassuring voice that also contained a chuckle and Lucas realized that he really did know the answer to the question all along. Lucas also decided that the epiphany for the day was that God really did have a sense of humor. He couldn't prove that theologically, but at least it couldn't quality for heresy.

--

"Talana, set a course for the nearest relay." Jima ordered her Asari helmswoman. The chirpy navigator nodded in response.

"Yes, Spectre. It shall be done." Talana responded, a bit of excitement ringing in her voice. Jima knew that Julland had been right as soon as they lifted off. Everyone on the crew seemed more than happy to be running the _Shiloh_ in space again. She looked up at her Turian XO when he stepped up to her, having returned from the galaxy map.

"How did you manage to pull this one off, getting away from duties and all?" Julland asked. Although he couldn't see it, a mischievous smile stretched across the Quarian's face.

"Haha, I just notified the Council that I wanted to take my crew and do some much needed practice routines." Jima shrugged.

"Jima...you're a genius."

"Thank you."

"Hey Spectre, you got a destination in mind?" Talana asked from the helm.

"Yes. Do you know the fastest route to the Alliance installation, Jump Zero?" Jima asked. Talana gave a broad smile.

"As a matter of fact, I do."


	6. Chapter 6

The road to nowhere may end empty and in some ways that can be devastating. The road to devastation is altogether different. It can cause the blood in any being's body to run cold and icy. Their camp was on the eight mile from the village, just outside the seven mile quarantine radius. They were on mile two of the quarantine zone, six miles from base and rapidly approaching ground zero. Within a short moment's time, they would be at the epicenter where a biological bomb went off. The problem was that they had no clue where or what the bomb was. For all they knew, they could be walking up to their necks in the pathogen particles. That wasn't a happy thought.

"What do they honestly expect us to find?" Siera sighed forcefully, as if her breath reminded her that she was still alive.

"Changes." Eulias answered, the Salarian cautiously taking in his surroundings with his eyes.

"Right." Siera muttered. In some cases, biological particles just kept on growing on whatever they lived on. Just like moss consumes bread or fungi grows on rocks, there was a possibility that whatever the contagion was, it could be growing somewhere in the village and was unnoticed by the initial search teams.

"Well...we're here." Siera stated quietly when they reached the first forlorn buildings right on the outskirt of the village. The Salarian and Asari stared at the barren sight in front of them. When one studies the dangers of pathology as much as these two did, they may start to realize just how helpless large organisms are to an unknown pathogen. What was the incubation period? How did it multiply, what were its vectors? How could it be transmitted? Where was it hiding? Did they already have it and in fact were just living off borrowed time, a biological bomb ticking off in them to the countdown of the pathogen's incubation period? Even the barren dust seemed to become particles of devastating contagions if they let their mind brood on it too much.

"All right, take this cautiously. You never know what might have tried to take up residence here while we we're gone." Eulias stated, discreetly retrieving his Striker pistol.

"Do you really think that'll be necessary?" Siera asked.

"We're both still alive and I've said the same thing for every similar situation we've had to walk into."

"That's because every previous situation turned out in you not needing your pistol." Siera muttered.

"Shut up. There's always a first time." Eulias retorted, leading the way towards the nearest house.

The Salarian entered first, keeping his pistol handy although he saw no reason to be edgy. The room appeared to be in the same disorder they left it. Siera was leafing through the files on her omni-tool, comparing what she saw to the image the team took of the same house when they first processed the site.

"Nothing out of place." the Asari reported.

"Good, lets continue."

And so the process went, going about, searching each and every house, each being found in the same sad state. Even ultra modern homes made of alloys and composites are not immune to the laws of entropy. When a disease strikes and the bodies are removed, everything starts to return back to the state it was in. Disorder.

"Hmm, nothing out of the ordinary. We were given no recommendations to take tests or samples either." Eulias announced as soon as they finished.

"I concur...wait, Eulias..." Siera trailed off, looking towards the fields next to the village.

"What? What is it that you see?" the Salarian asked.

"Look at that, that definitely wasn't there before..." Siera observed.

"You're a little taller than me, Siera. I can't see what you're talking about."

"That, out there. In the fields."

--

"A mind is a terrible thing to waste," or so the Human saying went. Every other race would have agreed to that as well. Usually, the saying was used in context of further education or to use one's own given intellect more skillfully. Harrvok and Pelona found that there was yet another way that saying could be used. This was a little more literal.

"Well...that's...pretty blatant." Pelona observed, her eyebrows rising above her small wireframe glasses.

"Normally we need an MRI or microscope to see the damage but this just jumps right out at you." Harrvok added.

There on the table laid the freed brain of the human female they had dissected. At first, it appeared like any other central nervous organ. It had the usual brain lobes, the normal color, the spidery scattering of blood vessels which supplied precious oxygen to the ravenous brain cells. However, there was one major flaw to the brain. Harrvok painted quite the picture with his metallic voice.

"It looks like something ravaged it, like a bunch of insects were left to eat what they wanted of it."

Whole sections of the brain were simply gone, eaten out. There seemed to be no system or order to the destruction. Pelona found a pen and pointed at the places that had simply disintegrated, as if eaten by some cranial worm. Using her knowledge of general biology, she traced the path of destruction.

"The center of language was hit, causing a slurring of speech. Large sections of the cerebrum are gone which would have hindered memory, learning and motor control. This particular section of the cerebellum indicates that she was probably going blind during her final hours. The damage goes into the brain stem..."

"Where she would have died when whatever did this hit the areas that deal with involuntary actions, such as breathing and heart beat." Harrvok finished for his assistant. Pelona nodded sadly.

"Yeah..." she said softly.

"Cause of death was probably respiratory or cardiovascular failure. There could have been other aggravations from the other ailments she was suffering." Harrvok muttered, the Turian writing down the report in a data pad.

"I'll make arrangements for these bodies to be examined with an MRI. We'll probably have to do less cutting that way." Pelona announced, guessing that all of the other bodies would yield the similar if not the same results.

"We still have one problem." the Turian stated.

"What's that?" the Asari examiner asked.

"We still don't know what exactly did this."

"That's why we start taking samples." Pelona replied.

--

There is only so many hours someone can work before they grow tired. Any organism finds that it must replenish itself at some point. After returning their samples, cleaning the equipment and putting away everything, Pelona and Harrvok walked into the mess hall. Both were weary from the day's work. The Turian was just glad to be out of that place. Pelona meanwhile simply wanted to collapse and not think about what they were dealing with. The disinfecting showers that were meant to rid them of all contaminants after they left the lab left a residual smell on her. She realized she was going to be too tired to take an actual shower.

The two researchers shared a quiet meal together, both not saying much. Harrvok was starting to realize that his mood was at least getting better. He wondered why he didn't just become a regular civilian doctor after he did his time serving as a battlefield medic. Yes, he was offered this position and it was interesting when he first signed on but now it just discouraged him, always showing him death and never giving him a chance to preserve or better the living. Why did he stay here then? The Turian barely let that thought of his mind when he noticed Pelona leaving abruptly. His eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.

Pelona also was not in good spirit as she walked up the foot of the hill that overlooked the camp. About halfway up she simply sat down and tried to watch the dimming orange that was the sunset. It was at least calming but it did not sooth a gnawing pain inside her. What was the point? She spent a hundred years studying pathogens and there were always more being found and even more being ruthlessly engineered by military organizations. Sure, she told herself that she was trying to save lives and yet it seemed like her life was empty, just keeping track of vials and samples and slicing up dead organisms.

"You all right?" Harrvok's metallic voice caught her attention as the Turian sat down next to her.

"I guess."

"You guess? What's wrong?"

"I just feel so...useless. I study these things to try and find a cure and when we finally do, there's another twenty more discovered. I've been doing this for a hundred years, Harrvok. A hundred years. Nothing has changed. This wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to do something...helpful." Pelona sighed, her form sulking.

"But you are doing something helpful." Harrvok replied.

"Yes but...I wanted to make a difference in people's lives. I didn't want to just diagnose stuff so people knew what to avoid." She felt Harrvok place a talon on her shoulder.

"You do make a difference in people's lives."

"You're just saying that." Pelona murmured, still not consoled.

"No I'm not. I know people whose lives you made a difference in. I know people who are honestly grateful to have you in their lives."

"Name one." Pelona sulked, resting her chin on her knees as she clutched her legs. She was surprised to hear Harrvok's uncharacteristically quiet response.

"Me."

Pelona looked at him in a quiet shock. Harrvok looked back at her in a way that she couldn't quite place. Was he scared?

"Harrvok...I...what, what do you see in me?"

"Someone with a good heart. Someone who can listen to others, even those who have no voice left. I see someone who is both strong and vulnerable, someone I want to be there for and...yeah...I mean-" Harrvok's speech suddenly died in his throat when he realized the rhetorical inspiration suddenly went blank. He cleared his throat, trying to stall.

"Ahem...well, er, what I was trying to say is that...well, I really don't know what I'm trying to say. Except, maybe I admire you. No, I do admire you and I really would like to be a close friend." the Turian finally sputtered. Pelona was still silent.

"Please, just say something. The silence is killing me." Harrvok finally pleaded. Pelona finally responded by taking one of his hard talons.

"Thanks, Harrvok. Maybe when we're back on the Citadel we can spend more time with each other."

"I-I'd like that." the Turian muttered. The awkwardly perfect conversation was shattered by the obvious sounds of commotion coming down at the camp.

"What's going on?" Pelona asked. Harrvok strained his ears, trying to listen. Pelona noticed the way his side mandibles twitched. It wasn't a good sign.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Two field agents were sent into the quarantine zone today. They should have returned hours ago and their communication equipment is silent. That means two agents are missing and we have no spare hands to look for them."


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: First, many thanks for those who are keeping track and giving suggestions. They are well needed and are very encouraging. Many thanks especially to Prioris for the badly needed information._

_

* * *

_

Lucas walked away from the commercial area having made a rather large investment. The commando absentmindedly brushed back his raven black hair with a numb hand. The metallic gray of his eyes seemed even more lifeless than usual as he thought on the decision he had made. There was no turning back now of course, but someone who jumps off a cliff still has a couple seconds to contemplate their decision before they get the jolt of their life.

"Oh my gosh...what am I going to say?" Lucas muttered, a finger idly scratching his mustache. He glanced at a nearby clock.

"Rrgh, well it has to come quick. Dalora will be off her shift soon..." the strangely agitated lieutenant stomped off, quite certain that he wasn't certain about what he was doing.

After taking a few steps, Lucas realized he wasn't getting anywhere by being agitated and nervous. In fact, it would probably only make things worse and impede his thought process. If he could only calm down then this decision, and the hefty discussion that would follow, would probably be made all that less painful. He would have plenty of time and there shouldn't be any complications.

His hypothesis came crashing down the moment he saw Dalora step out of the work bay. He had extremely mixed feelings about what he was seeing.

"Lucas, you'll never believe who decided to drop by for a visit!" Dalora announced, despite the fact that the visitors were right behind her. If Lucas had any disbelief to voice, it was cut off by a hug from a very familiar Quarian.

"Jima, what are you doing here? Nice of you to drop in" Lucas greeted, awkwardly returning the hug.

"I'll let Julland explain that. It's nice to see you too again, Lucas." the Spectre answered before turning to chat to Dalora. Meanwhile, Lucas and Julland saluted each other before easing into a firm handshake.

"Lieutenant."

"Commander. What brings you here?"

"Jima needed to get away from her administrative work and the crew needed to get back on the _Shiloh_. Badly. We all had to get away from it all." the Turian explained before smiling.

"I'm sure everything has been going well, correct sir?" Lucas asked the taller alien.

"More than well, Lieutenant. The crew is as disciplined a group as I could ever ask for and Jima doesn't mind me taking over most of the command. She's still the Spectre but she prefers to deal mostly with the medical stuff. I could not have imagined being in such a position like this even a year ago." Julland admitted, a rather content look on his face.

"That's good, so could we quit being professional and drop the formalities...sir?"

"Agreed, once again, nice to see you too, Lucas."

"As you, Julland."

"Lucas, we really have to take them out to dinner tonight." Dalora stated. Lucas did his best to keep his composure.

_"But that's when I really needed to talk to you about something!" _

"Uh, yes. Yes, of course." Lucas sputtered.

Before Lucas knew it, he was in his formal uniform sitting at one of the tables in one of the more high brow restaurants of Jump Zero. The four traded small stories from the few short months absence. Dalora could see that for the most part, everything had been made for the better. She would not have traded the steady relationship she had with Lucas for anything. She saw an expression on Julland's face that she could only catch for faint glimpses back when she first met him. It slowly hit her that despite his periodic grumbles and complaints, his countenance was a testament that he was in fact happy. Even Jima'Riznah vas Shiloh, Spectre and doctor, always wore a radiant grin even if her face was forever veiled behind a visor.

"Have you heard anything from Nalia?" Dalora asked Jima and Julland in reference to the former Asari Spectre that had unwittingly brought them all together all those months ago. As abrupt and rough Nalia was, they could not deny it was her spirit and leadership that got them through the fires of the Apollyon virus, and in a way, sealed their friendship.

"No, we have not heard from her in awhile. Last I checked, she was still recovering on the Asari homeworld." Jima admitted.

"It wouldn't surprise me if she found some adventure to amuse herself with. We'll get a postcard eventually, I'm sure." Julland muttered.

Jima took the moment to watch what the rest of her crew was doing. It had been quite a shift from becoming the _Shiloh's_ doctor to its captain, Spectre, and overseer. She had always felt a responsibility to maintain their well being as their doctor but now that sense of commitment was multiplied as they now looked to her as the leader. It left an uncomfortable feeling, like a glove two sizes too big. Talana, her navigator, was apparently making new friends with the Alliance soldiers at the bar. Some of her Asari marines were also mingling in the crowd or simply keeping to themselves. Julland was here at her side trading stories with Lucas but she knew she would never need to worry about him. She did get a little concerned when she noticed her chief engineer, Merjj the Salarian, marching off with his workers. They seemed to be carrying a large package. She always knew that Merjj was up to something and it would make sense that the boys in engineering would probably off and buy some new component for heaven's knew what. She finally decided she could trust Merjj, so long as they found a place to put their new toy, whatever it was.

Dalora and Jima noticeably if subtly reacted when they heard a change in the background music. Apparently, the one night they decided to visit was when the restaurant also hosted a dance on the center floor. The inevitable persuading and bantering between the women and the men about joining the dance lasted for about thirty seconds. Dalora finally shrugged and decided she would go anyway while Jima faithfully trailed right behind her. Lucas and Julland both decided that the music was way too high pace for them to have any hope to follow. Instead, the found it as an occasion to do what they did best: analyze.

"We know a lot of cultures took to dance, even the ship locked Quarians enjoy it." Lucas started.

"And by the looks of Jima, they're pretty good at it." Julland observed, his outlook on Jima forever shattered as the Quarian apparently proved to be much more of a skilled dancer than they could have guessed.

"I've heard it serves numerous functions from personal expression, art, to trying to find a mate." Lucas murmured.

"Hmm. I think we're missing the point here, though." Julland replied.

"What do you mean?"

"You think they could be doing it just for...I don't know, fun?"

"Yes, but why would organics be wired to find fun in dancing?" Lucas inquired.

"I-I don't know. Maybe it just is."

"Well, while we're on this topic, I need to talk to you about something." Lucas announced.

"What's that?" Julland asked. The Turian was immediately startled when Lucas pulled him closer and had a brief but heated discussion with the Turian commander.

"The point is, I'm going to need some help." Lucas finished.

"And how do you propose I help?" Julland sputtered.

"I just need a couple minutes alone with Dalora so we can talk. You think you can find a way to make that happen?"

"I'll keep my eyes peeled."

And as if on cue, the music changed. Instead of a fast tempo it changed into a softer, more sentimental melody. The intent was so obvious Jima walked off the floor while Dalora lingered on. Such is the cultural understanding of music meant only for couples.

"Take the shot, Lieutenant." Julland whispered before unceremoniously booting Lucas out of his chair. Before he could protest, which he really did want to, Jima firmly took hold of his shoulders and continued to shepherd him closer to the dance floor. Now that he was face to face with Dalora there was no escaping it.

"Why are you trying to so bad to hide from me?" Dalora chided as they awkwardly got into the step of the music.

"I'm bad at dancing." Lucas muttered quickly, letting one hand fall to Dalora's waist while the other took hold of her shoulder.

"Are you nervous?" Dalora asked quietly.

"Yes." _"I'm nearly out of my mind, I'll go mad!" _

"Don't be, just relax." Dalora whispered into his ear as they drew each other closer and quietly stepped to the music. In fact, she was already so content with how perfect everything was. Grateful to have found someone who accepted her for who she was and knowing that he loved her despite her flaws, she could not help but rest her head on his neck, just under his chin.

Meanwhile, Lucas and Julland were exchanging a long distance heated discussion conveyed by looks and subtle signals that only two brothers in arms can.

_"You confounded Turian! This wasn't what I was expecting!" _Lucas glared.

_"You irritating Human! How was I suppose to know!?" _Julland gestured.

_"Well how the heck am I going to get out of this!?" _

_"How in Palaven am I suppose to know?! You figure it out!" _

_"Jerk!" _

_"Clod!" _

Suddenly, Jima left the restaurant. Julland was torn at the moment but decided his chances were better with Jima. Leaving Lucas to his personal hell, he followed Jima out of the room and into the hall.

"What's the problem?" the Turian asked as they walked down the hallway.

"Dolphos sent a message to my omni-tool. Sounds like something important." the Spectre activated the device and listened to the Hanar's message.

"Most gracious Spectre, this one humbly must announce to you that the esteemed Council has just recently sent a message. It appears to be of utmost importance and this one would strongly suggest that you pay an audience to it when you are able to. Dolphos out." the highly diplomatic communications officer informed.

"They never let you have a day off, huh?" Jima quipped as they walked towards the _Shiloh_.

A couple moments later, the Spectre stood in the briefing room while Julland struck an attentive stance just behind her. On the screen, the Asari Councilor spoke first. Her peers looked rather somber.

"Spectre Jima, your training exercises could not have come at a more fitting time." the Asari announced. Were it not for the visor, they would have seen the Quarian blush just a bit.

"Uh, yes. What is this about?"

"A couple of days ago, we sent agents from the Citadel Extreme Medical Situations Response to Eden Prime. On one of the worlds the humans have been colonizing, an outbreak of some unknown disease claimed a whole village that the Alliance was working with in mining nearby resources." the Councilor explained while a video highlighted the exact locations on a galaxy map.

"What do you need me for, to try and identify the pathogen?" Jima guessed.

"More than that, it seems that we keep losing agents. Some have contracted this unknown disease and there seems to be a hundred percent mortality rate. The last straw was when two agents disappeared yesterday trying to take samples in the quarantine area." the Asari explained.

"All right, I'll investigate."

"Be on your guard, Spectre. We wouldn't just send you out if it was just a search and rescue mission." the Turian Councilor interjected.

"Oh?" Jima asked. The Salarian Councilor stepped into to explain.

"Intelligence shows that there may be a group of mercenaries working in the area. Our agents have tracked a mercenary special forces group that seems to have taken an interest in the outbreak, despite out best efforts to keep it top secret."

"You think they may want to try and get their hands on whatever this is to develop a biological weapon?" Jima inquired.

"Precisely."

--

Meanwhile, Lucas had finally managed to walk Dalora out of the restaurant and towards one of the large windows. It was the same one that they had spent countless hours just watching the beauty of night canopy. Dalora was still resting her head on his shoulder looking extremely content. Lucas felt extremely uneasy with what he was about to do as he tenderly brushed the long braid of her hair idly.

"Dalora?"

"Yes, Lucas?"

"We need to talk."

"About what?" Dalora asked, suddenly alarmed, her eyes wide. Lucas mentally kicked himself.

"About something important...about us." the lieutenant stated, trying to choose his words carefully despite being painfully aware of how much this wasn't going the way he wanted.

"What-what about us?" Dalora asked softly. Lucas ground his teeth and fidgeted a moment.

_"Oh God, help me!" _

"What's wrong, Lucas?"

"Dalora...I've been thinking..." Lucas painfully stated, placing his hand on her shoulders.

"About...?"

"Well, okay, I know we don't spend a lot of time together, but when we are apart you're all I can think about. Before, all I thought about was duty, service, and lofty ideas. I was living to die, to find that great eternal truth that I have spent so many years searching for. I know it sounds morbid, but its the truth. I didn't care for this life, I just did what was told of me, I always put myself on the line to die and if I didn't, I could just say I pulled off just one more crazy stunt."

"But...why would you do that?" Dalora demanded.

"That's the problem. I can't do that anymore. I was minding my own business and then, well, I can only say that God sent an angel to show me the error of my ways. At first, I thought it was my job to save her and point her in the right direction when all this time she was sent to save me. I can't get enough of her now. I live each day for her smile and to gaze into her eyes and somehow I get lost in them and...and..." Lucas realized he was stumbling. Gosh, that sounded so cheesy. Dalora looked like she was about to cry, in fact, there were small rivulets running down her face. Lucas awkwardly wiped them off.

"What I'm trying to say is that I know from holy scriptures that man is commanded and empowered by God to love those around him. I look at you, and I find the one sent to show me that I also need to live to do that, I find someone who I thank God for each day, each minute; someone I'm so afraid to hurt, someone who I realize I can't live without."

Dalora heard a small, mechanical pop just as Lucas took one of her numb hands.

"Dalora...would you spend your life with me as my wife?" Lucas asked softly, the faint gleam of a diamond ring shone in Dalora's eyes even though she was intently looking back at him.

A moment of silence, a flicker of eternity passed on as Lucas literally felt a single heart beat turn into memory.

"You never can say something simply, can you?" Dalora chided with a smile.

"You know I like complicated speeches." Lucas said, suddenly feeling her snatch him closer in a heartfelt hug.

"All too well." Another moment of silence passed and Lucas felt himself slowly dying.

"Please, Dalora, I need an answer." Lucas begged.

"If you don't get this as my way of saying 'yes' you're not as smart as I thought you were." Dalora giggled.

The moment suddenly was interrupted when they noticed a rather somber atmosphere in the near vicinity. Julland and Jima had apparently found them. Despite being hidden, Jima's face held a pained smile and a serious face.

"I'm very happy for you guys which is why its difficult for me to ask the following favor from you. I'm going to need your help."


	8. Chapter 8

Pelona carefully gathered all the supplies they would need just in case they would have to do more autopsies. Since they were now targeting the central nervous systems with an MRI, it was highly unlikely but it was always good to be prepared. She also couldn't help but wonder about the brief but tremendous dialog she had with Harrvok last night but decided that would have to wait for later. Right now she had a job to do.

"Ow!" Pelona winced as her grasp on the scalpel slipped and the sharp instrument cut a small but deep gash across her hand. Gingerly, she found the first aid supplies and applied the proper amount of medigel and bandaged the wound. She silently scolded herself to be more careful and focus. This was not a time to be distracted, time was of utmost importance here.

"What happened to your hand?" Harrvok asked as Pelona carried the tray into the lab. Harrvok had arrived earlier and was readying one of the cadavers into the bed of the MRI.

"Accidentally nicked it with the scalpel. Have you started running tests on them yet?" Pelona asked quickly, trying to draw attention away from her carelessness. Harrvok pointed a talon at two bodies separated from the others.

"Scanned those two and just got the results of the third one in the machine."

"What did you find?"

"So far, they all look exactly like this." the Turian answered, showing her the latest electronic scan on the brain. Pelona was quietly disturbed by what she saw. They all showed the same extensive and horrific brain damage, dark spaces caused by the absence of brain tissue.

"I'm willing to wager I'll find similar results in the others at this rate." Harrvok stated.

"Right. I'll go check on the samples we took. Maybe we'll have a positive somewhere." Pelona announced, walking off to another section of the labs.

--

She had once asked Lucas, who was a bit of a historian, to explain the battle of Shiloh, at least she assumed it was the battle of Shiloh since most Alliance frigates were named after important human conflicts. Jima then learned, as best as Lucas could pull from old military history classes, that the Battle of Shiloh occurred long ago in the late 1800s during what was called the American Civil War. The two opposing armies clashed at an area surrounding an old church which happened to be called "Shiloh." Jima found it odd that they would name a particularly vicious and pointless sounding battle after a place of worship, much less one whose name meant "Peace." When she asked Lucas why the Humans didn't do better research on their linguistics, Lucas just shrugged and suggested they probably didn't too much care.

The Quarian only momentarily thought on the irony on how her last name was in fact an archaic Human word with a meaning that was generally at odds with what it was known for, much less the purpose of the ship that bore its name. However, she liked to think that her own vocations were synonymous with Shiloh. Protecting life, bringing peace and being a physician were similar, right? No time to get philosophical, the brilliant steak that was the _Shiloh_ flickered into a twinkling metallic object in the nightly sea as the ship slowed down from faster than light speed. Jima walked from her place behind Talana towards the comm room. She passed Dolphos and Julland on the way.

"Julland, make sure we find a landing zone as close as possible to the medical team's headquarters. I'm going to try and get as much information from them as we can now that we're within communications range." Jima announced.

"Yes, Spectre." Julland saluted and immediately started coordinating with Talana and Dolphos on the terrain maps.

Stepping into the comm room, she opened a link to the ground site. The Council had notified her that the medical personnel were aware of her imminent arrival and were preparing accordingly. Jima found herself staring at a monitor that held the image of the medical team's chief physician and overseer. Apparently, it was a Human male, a certain Doctor Philip Hiprotos. The aging if firm looking doctor regarded her with an air of cooperation as he nervously ran his hand through a full set of silvery gray hair.

"Ah, Doctor and Spectre Jima...ah, Riznah vas Shiloh?" Hiprotos obviously read from an off screen data pad.

"One and the same. You may either call me 'Spectre' or 'Doctor Jima.'" Jima announced helpfully.

"The news of the Council sending you has been a real moral boost to us all. We've really been at the mercy of whatever this thing is and I keep losing more doctors to it. I'd almost say that this thing has become more of the hunter and we the prey. That's especially insidious since its just some kind of pathogen." Hiprotos grumbled.

"I hope to find out soon. How much data do you have on this agent?" Jima asked.

"Unfortunately, not much. My researchers have been working day and night but we've only just figured out the cause of death. We still don't know what kind of pathogen this is. Here is what little data we were able to collect. I will upload it to your computers now. If there is anything else you need to know, which I doubt there will be anything else to explain, we can discuss it when you're on the ground." the Human suggested, a small electronic beep on Jima's console announced the arrival of the files.

"Thank you, Doctor Hiprotos. The _Shiloh _will be landing soon and we'll be giving you a hand. _Shiloh_ out." Jima cut off communication and immediately started scanning the information before her. A nagging thought reminded her about the mercenaries that were rumored to be in the area. She would have to make more formal plans about that with Julland and Lucas later.

Down in the lower section of the _Shiloh_, Dalora finished up on her final touches on the ship's Mako rover. She glanced up at Lucas who was sitting on the wing of his star fighter, the wings folded in when stowed away to allow for more space. She could tell he was taking the warning on the mercenaries seriously because he was already decked out in his camouflaged Predator M armor. He apparently was already done inspecting his experimental sniper rifle, notably designated as the "Dante." It was a subtle play with words since it could only fire high explosive rounds and was designed to rapidly expend the heat, allowing for a much higher cool down time and therefore, higher fire rate. Now, Lucas was inspecting his seven inch survival knife.

Lucas quietly regarded the deadly keen edge of the blade, promised by the manufacturer to be specially treated and reinforced titanium sharpened to a mono-molecular edge. Kassa Fabrications apparently knew how to make their survival knives, simply taking the classic design of a sloping then straight curved edge with a clipped straight edge on top. The bottom and clipped edges met into a disastrously sharp point. The end result was a multi purpose blade that was useful for slashing away parachute lines, splitting wood for kindling or simply cutting into flesh or making a single, fatal thrust into organic arteries or Geth sensitive machine points. The only reason he bought it was because of the rather jaded if well meant warning from his old instructor when he was first retrained as a special forces ranger.

_"I don't care what any other knucklehead told you. It doesn't matter how powerful our element zero high velocity guns are. That ain't gonna stop some over sized Krogan, Geth or Thresher maw no matter how many rounds you pour into them. If they get up close to you, be more inclined to beat them with the butt of your rifle..." _The younger Lucas had glanced at his rifle and found it woefully lacking. He decided he wanted something sharper with an equally atrocious point.

The commando now wondered if the faithful blade would once again be stained with red.

"What are you thinking about?" Dalora asked, her head craned up to at Lucas from her place on the floor.

"I'm wondering if I need to get this knife sharpened." They both turned when the elevator arrived, apparently carrying both Jima and Julland.

"We'll be landing soon. You both ready?" Julland asked, preparing the electronic monocle on his left eye.

"Calm down, Julland. I don't think we'll be shooting anything yet." Jima soothed.

"I doubt so too, but you never know." the Turian answered.

"In fact, live weapons may only further aggravate our problem. Remember how I told you bullets can cause tissue and fluid sprays that can aerosolize various particles?" Jima asked. Lucas, Dalora and Julland both nodded solemnly.

"Well, once again we don't know what the pathogen is. You think it would be a good idea to randomly be causing messy biological sprays with those circumstances?"

"...Guess not." Dalora murmured, voicing the sentiments of everyone else. They suddenly heard Talana's voice of the intercom.

"Landing zone in sight, Spectre. Touch down in three...two...one..."

--

Dr. Hiprotos waited outside the main compound of the headquarters. A passing thought of having the last two field agents he had standing at attention with him with their pistols on hand but he decided that was just a frivolous formality. For crying out loud, they were just doctors, not soldiers. They were trained to hunt down bacteria, viruses and parasites. Whatever it was that got Eulias and Siera, and he was certain _something_ got them, it wasn't a bacteria, virus or parasite. He knew his doctors were good but shooting guns and fending off hostiles that were macroscopic were not part of their list of talents.

_"That's what these people are for." _the doctor thought nervously as he watched the distant bay door of the _Shiloh_ open followed by four figures stepping off the ramp. He wasn't quite sure what to make of what he saw. Of course he had heard that Spectre Jima was both a doctor and a Quarian but perhaps the full gravity of the fact did not hit him until she was standing right there in front of him. Like most Quarians, she was shorter and of lighter build than most humans. She had a slim figure with slight curves in the proper places. However, her rank of Spectre seemed to be screamed by the light but solid Colossus model armor she was encased in. He caught the two dim orbs of what were probably her eyes looking back at him, almost cheerfully, as Jima started speaking to him.

"Don't worry too much about the armor, just a precaution that my XO convinced me to take. His name is Commander Julland Sarrix." Jima motioned towards the tall and well built Turian standing next to her. This Turian, Julland, certainly intimidated the crap out of Dr. Hiprotos. In contrast to Jima, Julland seemed more stern and well acquainted with the burden of command. Superficially, aside from the well toned musculature and one or two stray scars that made up Julland's physique, the Turian also had white tribal markings, just simple lines, that ran up from his forehead to his head plumes. Only two horizontal ones ran on his face which seemed to emphasize his eyebrows. He also glanced at the extremly unconcealed weapons the soldier was carrying. Camouflaged Predator H armor, a full assortment of Spectre weapons, at least Dr. Hiprotos was certain they were Spectre weapons, and several grenades attached to his waist. The Turian was a walking armory.

"I'd also like you to meet Lucas Von Seraph and Dalora Algre. They're part time on my crew." Jima explained.

Lucas seemed just slightly less imposing than Julland but Hiprotos decided that the man was probably a little more shifty, especially since he only noticed an unconventional looking sniper rifle on the man's back. Hiprotos was not a soldier but he heard plenty of stories about the sniper types. The large military blade on the man's hip made the doctor shudder. Such an over sized, brutish spin off of the scalpel. Besides Jima, Dalora seemed like the only pleasant one out of the group, a braid tied into a bun behind her head, but even she wore a white Ursa armor with an equally foreboding Sokolov shotgun behind her back. Was Jima the only doctor the Council sent?

"I understand that you may want to send out a search and rescue group, but we're not expecting any need for firearms." Hiprotos stated carefully.

_"If only you knew, which you probably shouldn't." _Jima thought.

"Standard equipment, I couldn't make these three part with them. I can't say I blame them since their equipment saved their lives on numerous occasions." Jima rationalized.

"With all due respect, a gun isn't going to stop a pathogen." Hiprotos protested.

"I understand, Doctor. I'll have a talk with my crew later. In the meantime, lets get started with the medical stuff, shall we?" the Quarian said quickly, trying to calm the already fidgety doctor as they walked towards the compound. Jima gave Julland a discreet nod just before the door shut behind her and Doctor Hiprotos. Julland sprung into action.

"Dolphos, are you maintaining radar scans on the nearby area?" Julland asked into his communications array.

"Affirmative, most esteemed Commander. Nothing has registered yet, over."

"Very well, let me know as soon as you get something."

"Understood." with that, Julland turned to Lucas.

"Prepare your fighter and run a large patrol over the area. Keep your eye on your radar for contacts. Jima will notify you as soon as you get clearance to do a flyby over the quarantine area."

"It will be done, sir." Lucas saluted, heading back towards the _Shiloh_.

"What about me?" Dalora asked.

"You're with me."

"So what are we doing?"

"For now? Waiting." Julland shrugged.

--

Knowledge is power. Knowledge is also money. Money is also power. So are guns. That was the general line of thinking for Dorian McDowell. The medium sized human with a gruff face and deceptively calm demeanor was the leader of a certain paramilitary organization. Under his quiet composure was what some would describe as a diabolical personality. He refrained from calling his outfit a mercenary group. Mercenaries were unsophisticated and did not carry the full understanding of what his group was about. McDowell understood that there was a profit to be made out of war and conflict, you just had to be smart about it. Like any good entrepreneur, you also needed to be innovative. His well greased organization of information contacts had suggested this promising looking venture. Heaven's knew how many credits any band of fighters, mercs or terrorists would pay to get their hands on a biological weapons. The more established cooperations could not meet their shady demands. Dorain McDowell could.

He liked to call himself an information commander. He needed a regular feed of information that was constantly up to date. From there, it was a matter of him being able to decipher and make quick calls, constantly looking ahead. That's what kept him and those he kept on his payroll alive. He was often told that he had a sharp mind and could often predict anything three steps ahead of most other people. It was that talent that troubled him at the moment.

Finding and stealing a small sample of whatever this new pathogen was wasn't the problem. The new Asari he enlisted sitting in front of him was the source of his discomfort. The only thing he could read about her was that she was unpredictable. Dangerous unpredictable. He needed to fix that. He clasped his hands behind his back, trying to get comfortable in his heavy Mercenary armor.

"So, what made you want to sign up on my crew?" Dorian asked the Asari. The woman only kept her confident smile as she continued to work the controls in front of her. She would be landing the shuttle craft.

"I was bored. Needed some fun." the Asari answered. Dorian rolled his eyes, keeping his skepticism. Typical answer that most mercenaries would say. The problem was that a small hint of his brain told him this Asari was actually being serious. Dangerous serious.

"Any other reasons?" Dorian drilled.

"Itchy trigger finger. Need to get back in shape. Also could use a few spare credits."

"Well, let me tell you something. We're professionals, not regular run of the mill cutthroats. I need you to be serious."

"Why do you think I chose to sign up with you guys? I did the research. I'm being serious too." the Asari replied, a cheeky smile across her face. This only further discomforted Dorian.

"Good. What's your name then?"

"Liana." the Asari replied, still with that confounded pompous smile!

"Well, bring us down, Liana. We got us a sickness to find." Dorian mumbled. He quietly noted that Liana's demeanor changed just a little bit when he said "sickness." He'd have to look into that later.


	9. Chapter 9

Dr. Pelona stared with her mouth slightly parted in shock, slightly in dismay. The sight before her was rather discouraging. For a moment, the Asari pathologist could do nothing but stand numbly in disbelief. She heard Harrvok's cautious footsteps behind her.

"Any results?" the Turian asked just behind her back. Pelona said nothing and let the sight speak for itself. Harrvok made a disapproving sound in his throat. They heard more footsteps coming.

"Doctors Arvinian and Sivini." Harrvok and Pelona heard their chief doctor Hiprotos call. They both turned on their feet to find their boss escorting a smaller Quarian.

"Harrvok Arvinian and Pelona Sivini, this is Spectre Jima'Riznah vas Shiloh. She's been sent by the Council to aide in our investigation." Hiprotos explained. Harrvok furrowed his brows.

"Jima...Jima...why does it seem like I've heard your name before. Wait, you're not that Quarian who was-"

"Yes, Harrvok. I was with you guys attending over that Salarian during the first Apollyon outbreak." Jima interrupted Harrvok.

"Hmm, and now you're here to help us with something just as mysterious. We can at least be thankful it isn't as rampant as Apollyon was." the Turian stated, relaxing his features with a small smile.

"Pelona ran the first tests last night to find out if it was viral, bacterial or a parasite. I'm sure the tests are done." Hiprotos interjected, trying to keep to business. Pelona nodded.

"I did and I have the unfortunate results." the Asari sighed.

"What do you mean, Doctor?" Hiprotos inquired. Pelona only motioned with her hand. Jima and Hiprotos took in the sight before him. All the petri dishes were clear, none of the vials read anything different, all the graphs looked normal, even the lab rats were scampering around energetically. According to the lab results, everything was still happy and healthy.

"In other words, not only do we still not know how its transmitted, we still don't know what kind of pathogen it is." Jima interpreted.

"Yep." Pelona sighed.

--

Julland took a quick break from his usual full concentration in awaiting orders and looked around. Yes, Jima and he had decided that it would be best not to panic the doctors and keep the whole mercenary threat sub rosa. Only the crew of the _Shiloh _ knew about it and any and all hostile operations would have to be kept secret. It would probably mean blatantly feeding any nosy medical personnel pure B.S but they were banking on that the doctors would either be too busy or too ignorant of military know how. Even Jima knew that she herself was still not very well versed in the military arts, that's what Julland was for, but she knew that she would not allow the doctors having their work compromised by fear.

The Turian glanced at to his side and noticed Dalora still loitering around. The human was idly rubbing a particular spot on one of her fingers and the Turian figured out it was where a new engagement ring was under her armor. Julland smiled and shook his head. He remembered when he was in a similar position not too many years ago. Of course, his engagement never carried through but he wasn't worried about that happening to Dalora and Lucas. They were both good Humans and good examples of any species were so hard to find these days. If there were more such stellar personalities, he probably wouldn't be here on a mission to protect some dangerous bacteria or whatever it was against some a group of just as dangerous mercenaries. The Turian commander could not help but chuckle at the macabre, if ironic, situation. Lean too far one direction and you get your brain shot out with an assault rifle. Lean too far the other way and you die from some alien disease. Of course, he could always hope that those mercenaries would never show up.

"Most noble Julland, this one is getting unknown contacts on the radar. Wiring information to you now." Dolphos the Hanar announced over his radio set. A map with appropriate flashing dots appeared on Julland's electronic monocle. Julland glanced at every position before making his decision.

"Lieutenant, make a flyby on those positions and monitor if you are getting any radar feedback. If you are, drop out of radar range and play it safe. Keep your weapons cooled, this is just a reconnaissance."

"Roger that, Commander. Flaming Eagle over and out." Lucas radioed. From the _Shiloh_, they could hear Lucas' fighter power up its mass effect generators. The fighter craft floated from the cargo doors until it was a safe distance from the frigate and the ground. That accomplished, Lucas fired the engines and the fighter shot off before disappearing into the sky. Julland turned back towards the _Shiloh_.

"Dalora come with me. We're going to wait in the Mako in case we need to beat it out of here quickly." Julland ordered.

--

"Is it possible that any particles of the pathogen failed to take effect yet?" Dr. Hiprotos asked to no one in particular as the group of doctors tried to figure out what was going on. Medical technology had progressed a long way since its earliest roots but sometimes even the most teched out physician was at the mercy of basic biology.

"That is one possibility. Another option is that its still in incubation time, especially with the live test subjects." Pelona offered, motioning towards the lab rats.

"In other words, we may be waiting here for awhile." Harrvok stated.

"I hope this isn't a problem for you, Dr. Jima." Pelona said.

"My mission is to get this taken care of. Time is not an issue. That reminds me, what about that missing team that I heard about?" Jima asked, looking back at Dr. Hiprotos.

"Two field agents were sent yesterday to check and see if there were any significant changes at the quarantine zone. I didn't ask them to take any samples; it was only meant to see that there wasn't any strange alien growth going on in case it was bacterial, plant based or the like. The two agents went out and never came back." Hiprotos explained.

"When did you notice something was wrong? When did they stop radioing in?" Jima inquired.

"We're not soldiers. Even the field agents have limited firearms training at best. We only tried to radio them in the late afternoon when we noticed something was wrong. They went out in the early morning. They should have been back before noon."

"Why didn't you send others to look of them?" Jima demanded, her voice showing a hint of disapproval.

"I'm already understaffed and we haven't a clue as to what got them, if anything. I cannot afford to lose any more doctors." Hiprotos retorted stubbornly.

"Very well, that's why I have the others on my ship. Do you suspect this agent to be airborne?" the Spectre asked.

"Highly unlikely, but I wouldn't frivolously rule out the possibility." Pelona stated.

"All right. I can have Lucas fly over the quarantine area. That should minimize the risk of infection." Jima deduced. The other doctors seemed to nod in agreement. Jima suddenly cocked her head.

"Excuse me for a moment, my XO is in need of a consult." she announced, leaving the room to find a private spot. The other doctors took the moment to make a brief exchange.

"Pelona, are you sure that you took all the samples properly?" Hiprotos hissed quietly.

"Yes, I am certain. Are you questioning my abilities, Doctor?" the Asari inquired carefully.

"Less of questioning and more of stressing the need to get some answers. The sooner we get a lead on this thing, the sooner we can get off of this hellhole." the Human doctor growled before briskly walking off.

"Don't mind him. I'm sure you did everything to the best of your abilities." Harrvok consoled, a talon on the Asari's shoulder. Pelona only snorted in response.

"Harrvok, after doing this for a hundred years, I'm certain I did it right. I appreciate the sentiments, though."

Meanwhile, Jima found a corner so she could speak with little chance of anyone overhearing her. The last thing any of them would want would be for some doctor getting suspicious this early. The Quarian also realized that she probably should find a way to start thinking like a tactician quickly, a slight transition from thinking like a doctor.

"Yes, I'm away from everyone else now. What's up, Julland?" Jima asked.

"Spectre, we've picked up multiple radar contacts. I've sent Lieutenant Von Seraph on an flight recon to check the targets. I am standing by in the Mako rover with Dalora and two of our marines." Jima secretly rolled her eyes. She understood that Julland was always the professional soldier, but honestly, Lieutenant Von Seraph? Calling her Spectre? Those were things she could not get used to, especially the latter one.

"Has Lucas identified these unknown contacts yet?" Jima asked.

"Not yet. I've patched him on the link so you'll hear his report as well." Julland replied.

"Good. Once you have that figured out, I want you to fly over the quarantine zone and see if you find any signs of what happened to that away team that disappeared yesterday." Jima added.

"Understood, continuing on recon...I'm getting some radar signatures, pulling up now..." Lucas announced. Jima was glad Julland was also on channel since she scarcely had a clue what was going on.

"Already out of radar range, so the source my be ground base...getting a visual now..."

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Julland demanded.

"A mako rover...three of them. They're fanned out." Lucas announced.

"Any sign of a drop ship?" the Turian inquired.

"Negative, sir."

"Do you think they've spotted you?"

"I should be too high for their radar to spot."

"Very good. Permission to engage, Spectre?" Julland asked.

"Are you sure we should go in gun blazing first?" Jima countered.

"I'll give them one warning."

"But you're already outnumbered."

"I believe we have the element of surprise. If this is all of them, we can get this over with. If there are more, I can make sure to destroy them while giving them the fewest clues as to what got them." Julland replied.

"And how would you suggest doing that?" the Quarian asked skeptically.

"The lieutenant will circle around them and give me a constant information feed. I'll play on their belief that they have the advantage in numbers. Our fighter escort will then take out the rest with the appropriate amount of missiles. You do have the proper weaponry, right Lieutenant?"

"Affirmative."

"Awaiting your approval, Spectre." Jima sighed a moment before she gave her decision.

"If you think it's best, go ahead." the Quarian shrugged passively.

"Very well, Spectre. Over and out."

--

Lucas kept a close vigil on the three Mako contacts he had on the ground. Mako radar was made to keep a watch on ground units and the receptors did not go high into the air. The result was a dead zone in their radar which air units could exploit so long as they were small and maintained a high altitude. Meanwhile, his computer fed him with constant information on the unknown contacts.

"Commander, the database says that these Mako units are not registered. That's an automatic shoot on sight." Lucas radioed to Julland.

"All right then, I won't bother giving them a warning. As soon as I fire the first shot on our Mako, deploy your missiles. If they have higher ups watching them, they won't have too many ideas on how one shot destroyed three Makos but at least it'll keep them guessing."

"Understood. Getting into position now." Lucas announced.

The fighter had a mixed arsenal of torpedoes and missiles. Usually, fighters stocked heavily on torpedoes with just a token load of missiles to keep interceptors at bay. Torpedoes were in fact meant to blast holes through capital ships using heavy mass effect fields that would overwhelm the shields. There would be no capital ships here today but two Mako units were already locked on target. The third one? The triple cannons under his fighter's nose would see to that.

--

Liana stood behind Dorian McDowell as he watched the computer layout of the Mako rovers. They only knew that the promising pathogen was somewhere in the general area, there should have been a village nearby. Unfortunately, the village was built in such a backwater area that it had yet to be marked on any maps.

Liana shifted uncomfortably. She had thought that signing up on a crack mercenary group would be interesting and then she was promptly assigned as the helmswoman of Dorian's heavily modified shuttle craft. It was okay, but it wasn't as all it was sold out to be. Besides, one of Dorian's personal escorts, the beefy one, was hitting on her way too much.

"Still proceeding according to plan." one of the Mako rovers announced.

"Good, proceed as planned." McDowell ordered.

"Wait, we're getting a radar contact."

"What is it?"

"Its...it's another Mako."

"Open fire on the Mako. Alliance, Council or whoever they are, they can't interfere." Dorian asserted.

"Roger that. Openin-"

Everyone stared in shock as each of the three Makos subsequently dropped out of contact and evaporated into static. One of the technicians decided to state the obvious.

"We've lost contact with them, McDowell."

"We've lost more than contact. They're destroyed." the mercenary leader stated, already furrowing his brow as he tried to think.

"Are you sure?"

"Those Makos were equipped with protect channels designed to withstand channel interference. Even if they are being dampened by a jamming device, it still means the same thing if they're destroyed." Dorian explained.

"What are you saying then?"

"We've just ran into a professional military force, most likely equipped with air support units. We also know one more thing, we're looking in the right direction." McDowell deduced.

"Well, good luck with that. I'm going to head back to the ship so I can pick you up when you need me." Liana stated in her nonchalant manner that everyone was quickly reading on. McDowell waited until she exited the room before he spoke with his escorts.

"Follow her and keep a close eye on her. There's something fishy about her."

"With pleasure, captain."

--

Lucas eased his fighter into a slow coast as he made his way to take care of that quarantine flyby. Spent element zero from the cannon was still wafting over the canopy when he heard Julland's voice over the radio.

"Good job, Lieutenant. They had no clue what hit them."

"Agreed, sir."

"Lucas, are you closing in on the village?" Jima's questioned immediately followed Julland's compliment.

"I'm getting there, I can see the buildings now." Lucas announced.

"All right, look for two signs of the away team. They were an Asari and Salarian."

"Gotcha. We'll see what I can get."

The pilot eased his fighter until it was the mass effect generator that was doing more of the movement rather than the thrusters. In essence, his craft was doing more hovering than actual flying. It was very taxing on the electronics and hardware so he couldn't do it for sustained periods.

Below him all he could see were dejected looking buildings and desolate fallow fields were the crops should have been growing. Otherwise, the place looked like a ghost town. There were no signs of the away team either. Lucas swung around for another pass over the village just in case he missed anything. In fact, he did spot something he did not notice before.

"Find anything, Lucas?" Jima's persistent voice asked over the comm.

"Did the medical team know that there's a rather large hole in the ground near the fields?" Lucas inquired.

"They didn't mention anything like that. I'll let them know. You see anything alive down there?" Lucas squinted through his canopy and focused the optical implants in his eyes.

"Um...I'm actually not too sure." Lucas hesitated.

"What do you mean?"

"I think there may actually be wild animals down there wandering in the streets."

"Uh oh..."


	10. Chapter 10

Jima, Julland, Lucas and Dr. Hiprotos watched the footage from the computer recordings of the flyby Lucas had finished. Of most interest were the small dark figures that seemed to walk on all fours that were sparsely scattered all over the abandoned village. Dr. Hiprotos scratched his chin.

"They don't look anything like the indigenous wildlife we were informed on expecting in this area." the physician muttered.

"I have Dolphos running an information search. My only concern is that if he hasn't found anything now, it probably won't be anything normal." Julland informed.

Lucas squinted at the video recordings. He had not been able to get a decent look at any of the wildlife, even with his optical implants. However, the figures he saw reminded him of a large dog or small bear. Perhaps not as robust as a bear though the paws looked a little bigger but he couldn't say for sure.

"Another question is that of the hole in the fields. That simply was not there before." Hiprotos said, sounding a bit puzzled.

"I doubt you could have missed it." Jima speculated.

"Nope. And then the question of is what happened to Eulias and Siera? There is no sign of them." the chief doctor continued.

"Perhaps that hole leads underground and their radios are having trouble getting through?" Lucas offered though his countenance showed even he knew he was pressing it.

"I highly doubt it." Hiprotos grumbled.

"Lucas might be onto something, though..." Jima muttered.

"Well, we've done all the investigating we can. The only thing left to do is send an actual search party." Julland stated.

"Yeah? Who?" Hiprotos demanded.

"Good question."

--

Pelona and Harrvok continued their work in the labs. They knew how the contagion acted and killed its victims. It simply targeted the central nervous system, wrecking havoc on the brain until the organ simply did not have enough neural connections to the body. Once the major areas that controlled vital systems,: respiration, digestion and cardiovascular activity to name a few, were sufficiently ravaged, the victim simply dropped out and died. There seemed to be no particular pattern to the pathogen's path, it was simply whole sale destruction. Unfortunately, that was about as much as they knew and they had little to else to guess on what exactly it was.

"You think its a parasite?" Harrvok asked as he continued to load samples that would grow bacteria cultures. Hopefully they could find a foreign strain which would then hopefully be the contagion.

"Doubt it. I'm almost certain we would have seen it already under a microscope." Pelona replied, her thin frame glasses shining as she monitored each of the lab rat cages, hoping to find any that seemed diseased or debilitated. Nothing.

"So what do you think then?" the Turian's metallic voice rang with curiosity.

"If I were to guess, I'd say viral but I'm not sure." Pelona murmured.

The two doctors continued to work at a steady but determined pace. The sooner they had this figured out, the better. However, there was one nagging feeling gnawing right above Pelona's stomach. She was terribly afraid to ask but she was also badly needed to know the answer. Her resolve kept rising up and flinching like a courage deprived mouse trying to peek out of its hole and scurrying back at the simple glance of the light. Finally, her desperation to know won out.

"Harrvok..." Pelona started quietly.

"Yes?" the Turian replied. He noticed Pelona had become rather still, her breathing shallow. She looked so small.

"What you said...the other night...did you really mean that?" the Asari asked barely above a whisper.

"Yes. Yes I did." Harrvok answered, just as quiet but not lacking in resolve.

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" Pelona inquired. She had to know, she did not want to be getting her hopes up needlessly. The problem was that she feared she already had. It would be devastating to get crushed if this was all a farce.

"No. Why would I do that to you?" the Turian answered quickly, almost appearing to bolt at the thought.

"I...I...I don't know." Pelona frowned, now looking at the Turian over her shoulder. Maybe she had confidence issues. She had to admit, ever since that night she started to see him in a new light. Was it just now that she realized that as far as most Turians she had seen he actually appeared handsome? She mentally kicked herself, she was suppose to be trying not get her hopes up.

"Pelona, I meant what I said...but um, we better keep to work. We'll talk about it more when we get back to the Citadel, after all of this, all right?" Harrvok reassured.

"All right..." Pelona murmured, trying to hide a slight smile. Speaking of work, she suddenly realized something.

"Harrvok, what happened to the rat feed?"

"Supplies ran out. I've got a few minions now working on getting local vegetation for the rats. They should be in that box over there." the Turian pointed to the appropriate container.

"Right. There just has to be something that we run short on." Pelona rolled her eyes as she took a handful of the dark green leaves and placed it in the rat cages.

--

Lucas appeared quiet, relaxed, and any passerby would probably have believed him to be praying or meditating in the afternoon rays of the sun as he sat in his open cockpit. Truth be told, the Alliance pilot and special forces ranger was giddy and it was threatening to erupt out of that calm exterior. Sure, a more reverent environment like a chapel would have probably appealed more to his spiritual side, but sometimes you had to be back down to earth. First, it was good to be out of the strategic planning going on in the _Shiloh_. Second, he was enjoying the warmth on his face, the quiet weather, the gentle breeze, the feel of a powerful and graceful fighter craft under him and the beautiful woman he was engaged to was skillfully re-tuning his craft. Sure, it was cheesy and overtly sentimental but he didn't care. He was the luckiest guy in the galaxy.

"What are you smiling about?" Dalora giggled as she hoisted herself onto the wing and approached him.

"Ah...eh, nothing. Just enjoying the day...and your company." Lucas answered.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Besides, I know my fighter is in good hands when you've taken care of it." Lucas complimented.

"Thanks. Of course, you sung a different tune the first time I took care of it." Dalora chided playfully.

"Hey, of all my workspaces, this one is the most technical. I need to know everything about it from the slightly delayed mass effect generator when I want it to hover, to the mildly sensitive cannon trigger, to the beautiful mechanic who takes care of everything." _"For the love of St. Francis, stop flirting, Lucas!" _the pilot kicked himself.

"Hmm, that's nice to know." Dalora said as she leaned against the open canopy.

"You getting along with all the Asari crewmen? I remember you being a little alienated from them the last time we were in similar circumstances." Lucas asked.

"I'm doing just fine with them."

"You know, maybe you should get to know them better." Lucas suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you are part Asari, even if you're genetics made an interesting variation and turned you into a human with Asari characteristics rather than vice versa." Lucas shrugged. Indeed, that was the very reason Dalora was such a powerful biotic who did not need an amp, which in turn had its own pros and cons.

"So you're telling me I should discover my roots?" Dalora asked.

"Exactly."

"We don't know who my Asari ancestor was, Lucas." Dalora reminded.

"I know, but you could at least learn about the culture more." Lucas suggested. Dalora responded with a wry smile.

"That's one of the things I like about you. You come up with strange ideas, but they're actually okay one you think them through." Before Lucas could respond, the communications array on his fighter blared with Julland's voice.

"Lieutenant, I need you up in the air now!" Lucas made a shooing motion with his arm and Dalora immediately scampered off the craft and found cover. Lucas slammed his canopy down and fired the mass effect generator.

"What's going, Commander?" Lucas asked as the fighter started to hover and levitate off the ground.

"Dolphos has picked up three hostile contacts. They are all fighters of unknown model. We're patching the information to you now. You must take care of them, Lieutenant." Julland ordered.

"Roger. Pray they aren't interceptors." Lucas responded.

Lucas kept a watchful eye on the added radar information as his fighter screamed towards the contacts. His targeting computer suddenly warned him that his had a missile lock on all three targets. Lucas intentionally ignored that. He waited until he saw three distant specks on his canopy. It was only then did he hit the trigger.

Three dangerous white trails erupted from the missile banks at the base of the wings. The pilot made a begrudging note that he only had four of those left. As expected, he watched all three crafts react accordingly, taking evasive maneuvers and firing off their decoys.

"Amateurs." Lucas muttered as he zeroed in on the center one. He was pleased that they all seemed to be fighters like his own. At least that made things easier.

--

Dorian McDowell understood that despite all the information he knew, he could not help the incompetence of the pilots under him, either that or the superior experience of their lone opponent. Even the electronic display maps that gave the mercenary information commander the high definition readouts loudly screamed the terror and anxiety that was in his pilot's hearts. Regardless of the three mercenary pilot's best maneuvers, this lone fighter pilot seemed to know what he was doing. Ignoring the panicked cries of the pilots coming from the communication's link, McDowell tried to gather as much information as he could about their opponent. The computer was deciphering information at a steady pace. He wished it would have worked faster.

"Fighter...Alliance model...the maneuverability is a bit better than standard, must be customized then...serial number..." McDowell muttered the information out loud as it was given to him.

"Someone figure out who that fighter is registered to." McDowell commanded to one of the techs at his command. One of them meekly indicated that he would take care of it. A sudden hiss of static punctuated the communication link before drowning in another pilot's voice. McDowell already understood what was going to be told to him.

"Pilot down, pilot down! He got Carter!"

"Calm down and put more pressure on him. There are still two of you against him." McDowell stated firmly. He was still pretty certain along with the other pilots that their opponent would still win though. He had to keep prolonging the fight if only to salvage more information from their enemy now. It would be the only thing to make up for the inevitable losses that would follow.

"Arrrggg-"

"Dobson is down! I'm turning around!"

McDowell cursed at the cowardice of his last pilot but decided to prepare for the inevitable. He considered killing this last guy himself if and when he landed. He almost hoped the intruding pilot would take care of that for him.

"Prepare the anti-aircraft weapons. Be ready to shoot that fighter down when it gets here." McDowell ordered. The surrounding technicians started hammering away, plugging the proper orders into the computers

--

Angel of war, angel of judgment. Lucas thought on this as he chased the fleeing mercenary fighter. He marveled on how his mind could be so determined one second and then have just a stray splinter of it still brooding away. He had started in the priesthood, studying to be ordained into one of the most ancient of spiritual institutions, the present embodiment of the Roman Catholic, universal, Church. Somewhere along the way his course shifted. Somewhere along the way, he became a soldier. However, the would be priest was still in there. Somewhere. He heard him speaking every now and then. It certainly explained a lot, why he refused to curse his enemies, why he refused to pronounce damnation upon them. After all, who was he, a mere mortal, to judge his fellow mortal to eternal condemnation? Was not this lesser hell called a "screwed up world" hell enough? Oh, how he wished that there could be a way that the races of sentient beings would one day beat their swords into the dust and study war no more. He hoped that that day would come. Unfortunately, things would have to be different until then. Until that day came, he would have to be a pilot and special forces ranger. He would have to be one of those few who, though they pulled the trigger, they hoped it wouldn't have had to end that way. He would have to be one of those select few who could choose the right time to show mercy.

Until then, he would have to be an angel of war, angel of judgment. The guns of his fighter spat fire and fury that streaked across the sky.

--

Liana stood in an empty spot of the mercenary headquarters and watched as a lone fighter gave Dorian McDowell a run for his money. The Asari monitored the radar screen and saw the two dots that represented both one of their own mercenary pilots and the enemy as they streaked closer and closer towards the epicenter of thee screen. Unknown to anyone else, the Asari frowned with discomfort at what she was seeing.

Meanwhile, McDowell was barking further orders. He wanted the radio interceptors up so they could track any communications traffic. He wanted that enemy fighter shot down. He also wanted the name of the pilot for whom that fighter was registered to. He needed this information now. His angry charade was momentarily halted by a further flood of communications traffic.

"I can't shake him, I can't get him off my tail! Get him off my-"

"Our last fighter is down, sir." a technician reported.

"I can read the radar, moron." McDowell sneered.

"We have a fix on the communications link. Patching in now!" a technician announced excitedly. They listened to the transmission.

"-taking fire from ground guns. Permission to open fire?"

"Do you see anything else other than anti-aircraft guns?"

"There is a radar and communications uplink."

"Take that out, Lieutenant. That is your primary objective." McDowell was provoked badly.

"All of you, destroy that fighter! Now!" McDowell screamed.

Spurred by the thorny words of their leader, the technicians strained their hardest to guide the guns onto a lock. Somehow, whether by divine intervention, the skill of the pilot, dumb luck, or all three, they could only watch in dismay as the fighter evaded their best efforts. They could only watch the fighter spit out a missile.

"Incoming!" a tech cried. McDowell cursed.

The facility shuddered when an awkward but strong boom reverberated from the top to the bottom of the building. Most of the screen went blank. The only thing left speaking to them was the communications interceptor.

"Target destroyed. I'm getting out of here."

Instead of carrying on, McDowell only became more quiet. He seemed to fold in on himself, almost restraining himself from chewing on the mic of his headset as his mind continued to grind away. He needed to come up with a new plan with this recent turn of events. He needed new information. He got it.

"Sir, I've got a lead on the fighter. It's registered to a Lieutenant Lucas Von Seraph. I've checked his file. Most of it is classified, sir." a tech informed. McDowell came to life again.

"Keep checking it. Download what you can to my computer and I will give you further orders. In the meantime, get the blasted radar fixed!" McDowell barked.

Meanwhile, Liana had been doing some calculating of her own. After hearing the name of the fighter pilot, one could have noticed the decision being made in her mind. It was quiet but it was decisive enough.

--

Dr. Hiprotos sighed as he took a break from his work. It was getting late in the day and he still had to hear about any encouraging news from the other doctors. It also bothered him about the wildlife at the quarantine zone. Who knows what complications that would make now. They could be carrying the disease or be vectors themselves. What if the pathogen mutated in them? What if they carried the disease further away? What if one slipped out of the quarantine zone?

He knew he had a reputation of being extremely anal and was known as being very demanding on his other doctors. There was a reason for that. One of the reasons he was elevated to this position was because he worked in the ER of one of the Citadel's larger hospitals. It was rather easy to recall any hodge podge of multiple blood drenched accidents occurring all at once in the trauma room. In fact, it was hard to recall which cascade of disasters was a single memory and which was actually a conglomerate of memories that streamed together. They became the same after awhile. Some Turian oozing blue blood from some gunshot room. No time to judge him and how he got that because they just got a Salarian who lost his leg in an industrial accident and was going into shock. Nevermind the Human who had stopped breathing even before the Turian got in here, the medics doing CPR could still hold on for awhile more, no matter how much their arms ached. And it all fell to him, Dr. Hiprotos, to make the decisions. Usually he was right, his determined but demanding manner that begged his fellow doctors to hate him but to admire him even more. Occasionally he was wrong and someone had to be carried out in a body bag but there was no time to let that bother him. That was because they just wheeled in an Asari with industrial burns. Nevermind the rest of the bloodied, broken, amputated mess that would show up right behind her tail.

In other words, time was everything in the life and death pendulum that every physician fought against. Sometimes it swung slowly. Dr. Hiprotos was just blessed and cursed with spending too much time working with a faster paced one. When he walked away from it, his beat was already set. Now he was a ticked off metronome screaming an agitated live or die beat that demanded the doctors under him to play in time the macabre symphony or drop out.

Dr. Hiprotos looked up when the door of his rudimentary, makeshift office opened. He found himself once again staring up at Julland, the imposing Turian commander that was effectively taking over the more militant commands.

"I shifted through the records of your personnel for a candidate to help us in the search party." Julland announced in regards to the quarantine zone. Hiprotos raised a hand to indicate a pause.

"Wait. I know we went over this before, but remind me why you're not just sending a couple of your Asari marines?"

"Because your people are more versed in extremely hazardous biological situations than my marines." Julland stated in a sort of deadpan. Hiprotos sighed, still not liking the reason.

"Fine. Who did you choose?" Julland eased a moment before making the announcement. He wanted to reassure this guy that they were all on the same side.

"Hiprotos, I want to remind you that I am not unlike yourself. We both have people under our command. I won't presume to know what circumstances led you to the way you are now, but I have fought in battle. I understand that we don't want to take unnecessary risks. I put the utmost amount of thought into my decision." the Turian reassured.

"I'll take your word for it. Who did you choose?" Hiprotos stated, still keeping up the fast rhythm.

"A former battlefield medic. Harrvok Arvinian."

"Very well, I'll let him know immediately. He will report to your ship once he clears his duties."

--

There was in fact one downside to having the beautiful woman you're in love with who was also the same mechanic that lovingly took care of your fighter. Lucas found this out as he checked his equipment one last time. Julland told him that he was chosen to lead the search party in the quarantine zone to find the missing personnel.

"Lucas!" Dalora called to him from under the wing of his fighter. She sounded agitated. Lucas looked up with a blank stare.

"What?"

"Look at this!" Dalora stated firmly. Still confused, Lucas carefully walked forward.

"What?" he asked again.

"Look at these marks." Dalora grumbled, motioning at the underside of the wing.

Sure enough, there was a series of long and deep gash marks in the composite material of the wing. Lucas recognized them instantly.

"Oh, those are from enemy gun fire. It happens all the time." Lucas shrugged.

"There was also a scorch mark at the base of your tail fin." Dalora added, her arms folded disapprovingly in front of her.

"Yeah, I believe that was when a missile exploded when it hit one of my decoys. The heat must have dissipated through the shield without weakening it." Lucas suggested. Such things were a given in the aviation combat field. The computers in the fighters' guns were designed to fire heavy, dense, element zero modified slugs that were suppose to quickly weaken shields. The missiles were little different. In contrast, Alliance fightercraft shields were made to make smart decisions. If it decided that the incoming round would miss (or perhaps harmlessly grace across the surface of the plane in this case) it wouldn't activate the kinetic barriers. Stray heat from an explosion was also ignored.

"Lucas, you must be more careful!" Dalora scolded. Lucas was at lost with what to say.

"I was. My kinetic barriers barely ever dropped below fifty percent and I don't ever recall seeing it drop below twenty five percent." the pilot shrugged in defense.

"And yet you get these bullet graze marks and the missile blast?" Dalora replied, a skeptical eyebrow raised.

"The computer didn't say anything about them." Lucas answered. Dalora sighed. She knew she was overreacting, but only a little bit. Caution Lucas, caution!

"Honey, just be more careful. I know I modified the shields and computer to work beyond standard requirements but you can't depend on them all the time."

"You're not just mad that you have to replace the composite hull casing, are you?" Lucas smiled mischievously. He knew she was concerned for his well being, but every now and then he had to make light of the situation. Dalora playfully whacked him with her wrench.

"For all the book smarts you got up there, I think you sometimes need a little common sense upgrade." Dalora muttered.

"Hey, I got plenty of common sense. I'm not completely oblivious."Lucas replied, still bantering.

"Oh really? Prove it." Dalora asked skeptically, her hands on her hips. She yelped when Lucas roughly enveloped her in an embrace.

"Well, I know that you're giving me a hard time only because you care about my well being and want me to be safe. I also hope you that I actually appreciate that and I try to do my best even if I can't take it seriously at the moment." Lucas whispered in her ear. Anything further was interrupted by a metallic "ahem." They both looked blankly at Julland who apparently had been there for awhile and had conveniently decided to clear his throat.

"Lucas, I'll be sending you and a certain Harrvok Arvinian into the quarantine zone. You are to leave tomorrow morning at 0600 hours. Arvinian will be here in a few moments so you two can work a battle plan. Dalora, I have decided to launch an attack on the mercenary compound Lucas spotted earlier. They will be trying to repair their radar and communications uplink. We will hit them when they will be at their most vulnerable still trying to repair it. You will be coming with me and two of my marines." the Turian commander announced solemnly.

--

Liana sat idly in the seat at the helm of McDowell's shuttlecraft. The Asari didn't show it, but she knew that Dorian's two goons were standing there in the back with the full intent to keep an eye on her. However, her decision was made. Mercenary work was strictly a decision made on economics with high risks and higher sunk costs which demanded equally high payment. Of course, the supplier always had the choice of terminating the contract. Now it was just a matter of being smart about it. Lazily, she turned the engines on.

"What are you doing?" the one guard asked. Liana ignored him. By now, the ship was already taking off from the ground.

"What are you doing, put us back on the ground now!" the guard bellowed. Liana wasn't stupid. In fact, she started to smile. Out of the three people in this shuttle, she was the only one who had any sense of piloting skills. She heard their footsteps approaching. Without them noticing, she locked in the orders so that the ship continued without her guiding hand. She made sure not to give them the hint of that, though. She was still smiling smugly when she heard their footsteps stop right behind her. She could practically feel them breathing down her back now.

"Put us down, or I will kill you!" the first guard stated. She knew the other guard was the one that was lusting after her. He would have given a slightly modified threat had it been him bellowing. Liana reacted decisively.

The two guards did not see it, but she had a pair of pistols at her hips. In one quick motion she drew them out and brought them back so that they were both knocked to the floor, their face having been hit hard by the pistols.

Just as both of them opened their eyes in shock from their pained grimace, they found Liana staring back at them, standing now with that confounded smile. She was also glowing with a blue aura. The first guard who had been the most vocal figured out what was going to happen and cursed. It was the last thing he said. Liana hurled a biotic throw at him.

The second guard watched as his compatriot was effortlessly flung down the length of the metal floor until he crashed into the wall in the back. He heard a sickening snap and decided it was the man's neck. He rushed to ready one of his weapons but found his arm pinned down by Liana's foot. The Asari was smiling sweetly and stooped down to speak to him quietly. He shivered as he noticed just how innocent and yet foreboding her rich emerald green eyes looked. She spoke softly, almost tenderly to him.

"No hard feelings, sweetheart but you see, it just wouldn't work between us. You see, you're just some rough neck mercenary and I'm just taking a swing at this. I was just bored and wanted to give mercenary work a try. The problem is, as much of a rebel as I am, I have too much, oh, "law" in my blood. Another problem is that I know exactly what's going to happen to Dorian McDowell in the next couple days and I don't want to be around to see it." Liana explained cryptically. The bewildered guard opened his mouth to speak but Liana held a finger to her lips and shushed him. Her smile was sweet and almost apologetic.

"Quiet now, or you'll miss what I have to tell you. Since you've been trying way too hard, even if it was the wrong way, to have your way with me, I might at well at least return the gesture and at least tell you my real name. My name is Nalia D'Sara. You'll never forget it now."

She aimed her pistol and fired.


	11. Chapter 11

Dr. Pelona Sivini woke from her cot and glanced at the digital clock on the floor. It read four in the morning, local time. The Asari sighed heavily. Sleep had become difficult and her eyes still felt laden with fatigue. She also felt troubled, though she couldn't quite place why. Slowly getting up so that she sat up in bed, she laid a blue hand on her forehead and decided she would get up early. Maybe she could get a head start on the day's work.

After throwing on some clothes and a lab coat, she carefully padded out of the room towards the labs. Not all the lights were on yet, just a select few to keep vigil over the night. She was just making it out towards the main hall which would lead to the labs when she came across a sight she had not expected. There were two men in the main room. Both of them were heavily armed and armored. She could tell one of them was a human, the other a Turian, both wearing a green camouflaged armor. The Turian handed something to the human.

"Take this, it is a night vision mod. Since you'll be taking point, you'll need it more than me. I have no use for it anymore." the Human soldier plugged a device somewhere in his armor and Pelona noticed his visor turn from translucent to a brilliant green.

"Yep, it works, even on a human model." the soldier announced.

"Armax Arsenal is very good making sure everything stays compatible." that was when Pelona realized something odd about the Turian's voice.

"Harrvok?" Pelona asked quietly. She nearly jumped when both of the men turned to look at her. She could not see their facial features as they were both wearing their full helmets. Their armor clearly were the same model from the same manufacturer, if different only in that one was specifically made for a human and the other for the Turian. The Human soldier only carried a heavily built sniper rifle on his back. On one hip was a pistol while from the other hung a sheathed survival knife. The Turian was carrying the standard issue of weapons every soldier carried with the exception of a sniper rifle. In its place he seemed to be carrying a special receiver or radio of some sort, judging by the long antenna coming from it. That was when she noticed the small engraved symbols on their collars.

The human had three insignias burned into the collar of the armor. The first was a pair of wings, the second was a cross and the third was a pair of sniper rifles crossed like an "X." The Turian had only one symbol, a single cross, but it was different from the Human's. While the Human's cross did not bisect equally, the arms closer to the head, the Turian's were equally divided. It was a medic's cross. It was indeed Harrvok.

"Harrvok, what are you doing?" Pelona asked quietly, walking up to him.

"Pelona, what are you doing awake at this hour?" Harrvok replied, almost sputtered.

"I-I couldn't sleep."

"Well, I was chosen by the Spectre's team to help investigate the quarantine zone. This is Lieutenant Von Seraph, one of Spectre Jima's crew. I'll be giving medical advice for him as well as acting as the radio man. The radio pack also contains some equipment so we can take samples if necessary." the Turian explained.

"They chose you because you were a battlefield medic." Pelona stated blankly.

"Yes, I believe that would be a proper educated guess." Harrvok agreed. There was a moment's silence as all three stood awkwardly. Pelona wasn't quite sure how she felt and she wished that she could at least see their faces, not the cold, emotionless shells of their helmets. She also wanted to kick herself for saying the most obvious fact.

"I will return as soon as we find anything." Harrvok announced, as if reading her thoughts.

"All right. Please do." Pelona said meekly and continued on her way to the lab.

The Asari decided that she was off to a bad morning. Her mind, still addled with sleep, did not want to function anymore. However, a mostly rational or optimistic side barked at her to keep working. Just because Harrvok was going into the quarantine zone where Goddess knew what pathogen was lurking there, he would still return and probably have found what happened to those two other field agents. This could all turn all good, right? This did not have to end badly.

The Asari glanced at all the samples, all the tests and found nothing. For the second day in a row no pathogen registered on the experiments. Even the rats were still scampering around with no signs of debilitating diseases showing. Discouraged, the Asari slumped forward on a counter and let her forehead slam into the smooth, polished steel. The cool of the metal reminded her that she decided it was already going to be a bad day. It was still only four-fifteen in the morning.

--

What didn't kill you only made you stronger. Yeah right. Nalia kicked back in the navigator's chair and poured contempt on the old saying. Sure, it was probably right but only half the time. What didn't kill you probably made you wiser but only if you chose to heed the lesson. What didn't kill you probably made your life more interesting, so long as it wasn't completely twisted. There was no absolute positive to the saying. What didn't kill you probably traumatized you for life, or left long emotional, spiritual or physical scars that never would heal.

The Apollyon virus didn't kill her but then again, how did she survive? It wasn't from sheer force of will, she knew that much. Jima explained that she had used modified Quarian antibodies, her own antibodies, in a last ditch effort to stop the virus. The idea was that the Apollyon nano-virus was a machine that was made to mimic a genome, trying to incorporate itself into a biological organism to either make it stronger or ruthlessly destroy it. Machines, like the Reapers, could only expect to be destroyed by the pathogen. Jima's reasoning was that, going off the rumors that Quarians are a hybrid of cybernetics and biology, her antibodies would be a mediator of sorts between the biological and the technology that the Apollyon virus was.

Truth be told, it just looked like Nalia got lucky. She was probably one of those rare flukes of when a virus invades a body and them somehow disappears with no explanation. Every time Jima's theory had been replicated in a lab, it always ended badly for the infected lab rat.

And now, here she was. Nalia was an ex-Spectre with no plan in life. She had spent a few months recovering, but she got bored. (Her friend Julland would have quipped that this was no surprise.) So, on an impulse, she decided to try being a mercenary. Now here she was, on an impulse, running away from the profession and now lacked a direction in life. She was as aimless as the shuttlecraft coasting through the expanses of the galaxy.

The virus had taken its toll. She still had not regained all of her strength. Her muscles had not regained their former rigor yet. At least she wasn't as thin as when she first was pronounced clean. The emotional damage? She wasn't sure yet. There was a dull tormented nagging in her, that was for sure, but she didn't know how it manifested itself. Did life become more precious? Was it cheaper now? Could she brag that she and Death sat down to a game of blind poker and she somehow managed to pull the winning hand? She wasn't sure, she just wasn't. All she knew was that whatever doesn't kill you doesn't necessarily make you stronger. Besides, no matter how many times you played with the Grim Reaper, he kept smiling at you. The truth of the matter was that his poker face was a solid, unflinching grin. That was because he knew that inevitably you had to pull the Dead Man's hand. Death always wins in the end.

Nalia kicked herself when she realized she was starting to sound like Lucas, always the philosopher. Maybe she needed a vacation. Yes, she would take a vacation. At least it was a direction in life.

--

Julland let his brows dip as his jaw set and he did one last mental rundown of the plan. The interior lights of the Mako cast uncomfortable and awkward shadows on his dark gray skin. Within a couple of minutes the vehicle would arrive at the compound Lucas spotted. They would first take out the heavier guns with the Mako cannon as well as clear out any hostiles outside. After that, he would have to lead the combat team inside to finish the job.

He had decided on bringing two reliable Asari marines from the _Shiloh_ crew. First was Matron Shanata De'larese. Approaching the midpoint of her life, the Asari nonetheless remained faithful to her vocation as a huntress, brining a whole new meaning to soldiering for a career. The Asari had done it for several lifetimes by any other races' measure. Julland learned that she was quiet and perhaps a tad bit anti-social but she made up for it in a firefight. Julland didn't know how she did it but she knew how bring down anything with devastating speed. Julland had only seen her once resort to hand to hand combat and he prayed he never would have to again. The thought of the outcome on the part of the victim still made his stomach churn.

The other Asari was Filara Sidayana. Filara was trained as a soldier but she really shone as an engineer on the battlefield. Of all the marines as his command, Julland was the least sure on how to handle her. There were times when Filara could be emotional and bubbly. So far, she kept her head on every engagement he dragged her on and her skills were not to be overlooked. Besides, where else was he going to find an Asari soldier who could handle an assault rifle and hack a Geth Colossus and still have a few token biotic abilities? Finally, she was the only thing that convinced Jima from coming. The Quarian had clashed with him over this one specific in regards to the assault. Jima had argued that she should come. She was the leader and everyone expected her to take the initiative. Julland had argued that she still had not finished her combat training and it was unnecessary for her to come when Filara was an already skilled field medic. Jima finally conceded and decided she would direct the assault from a network computer from the S_hiloh_ while simultaneously helping the doctors back at the labs.

Finally, there was Dalora who was patiently waiting in the back. The Turian had thought twice about asking her to come. He did not want to endanger one of his friends who was also the beloved of yet another friend. However, he also felt better when she was around in a fight. In the end, it came down to the fact that Dalora demanded that she should come. Julland was still trying to come up with an excuse but decided it was soon going to be unnecessary. In some ways, Julland felt more sorry for anyone who got in Dalora's way than anything else.

"We have visual contact, Commander." Shanata reported, looking through the monitors. Julland wrapped his talons together in thought before giving his prompt orders.

"Open fire. Take out the mounted guns. Use evasive maneuvers and run a circumference around the compound. The more we move, the least likely they are to hit us."

"Yes, Commander." Shanata replied.

--

Dorian McDowell could only smile at the monitor screens that showed the attacking Mako approaching his headquarters. Already he could hear the faint booms echoing in the walls when the enemy's cannon struck one of the mounted guns. However, despite being woken up at this unwelcoming hour, the mercenary commander could feel himself slowly getting into it. In fact, he already felt sorry for his attackers. They were going to be in for a bad surprise.

"Your order's, sir?" a technician asked. McDowell snickered before he gave his answer.

"Fire an EMP round."

"Yes, sir."

--

"Most of the guns have been taken out." Shanata reported from her post. The Mako was still running at a rapid pace, its cannon steadily fixating at possible targets.

"Filara, how are our shields holding?" Julland asked.

"Still have seventy five percent. Those mercenaries are lousy shots." Filara smiled.

"Very well. Take out all the guns and then await my orders." Julland stated confidently.

The Mako continued its rain of fire under Shanata's experienced direction. One by one the mounted guns were destroyed until only two of the topmost guns remained.

"Almost done..." Shanata muttered.

"You think they'll go down easy?" Dalora asked quietly.

"At this rate, most likely." Filara replied.

It was then that they heard a small thump right before the Mako came to a sudden screeching halt. All the lights and electronics also went dead.

"What just happened?" Dalora asked.

"This looks like the result of an EMP attack." Filara stated.

"Explain, soldier." Julland demanded.

"Electromagnetic pulse. Basically, they just fried all the electronics in the Mako. Our rover is now a giant paperweight." Filara sighed.

"Can you fix it?" Julland asked.

"Considering the safety of the environment out there-" Filara was suddenly interrupted by the constant rattling of the sound of metal crashing against metal. The engineer shouted above the noise.

"And the fact that they've taken out our shield and will breech the hull any minute, no. We have to get out of here, now!"

--

Julland was the first to step out from the Mako, the sound of rounds ricocheting off the hull behind him resounded in his ears. The field commander in him told him that the Mako being disabled was not part of the plan. He did not like this at all. Filing out behind him, Dalora, Filara and Shanata all had their weapons drawn. The commander in the Turian told him he was up against a different kind of enemy. His mind jogged with trying to come up with alternatives as he and the three women huddled behind the hull of the rover.

"What are your orders, Commander?" Shanata asked, taking a peek out from behind the Mako. So far, they could not spot any hostile soldiers. It was the mounted defense guns that were their main concern. Julland's mandibles shuddered for a moment as he thought.

"Filara, find a way to disable those guns, even if only for a moment."

"Yes, Commander." the engineer immediately started working away on her omni-tool.

"Incoming round!" Shanata warned.

From above them, a projectile exploded overhead. A small concussive blast threw them all to the ground. Rapidly pulling himself up from the dirt, Julland immediately called out.

"Status report, all of you!"

"I'm good." Dalora replied, finding her shotgun.

"I'm still in one piece." Filara added.

"I'm ready. That was a rather lousy explosive round. They're going to have to do more than that to stop us." Shanata grumbled.

"That wasn't an explosive round." Filara announced over the sound of gunfire.

"What do you mean?" Shanata stated.

"Look at the electronics in our guns and hardsuits. They're all dead. That was another EMP round. We have no radar, our biotic amps are gone and my omni-tool is fried. The only reason our radios are working is because a backup system has gone on. We can't even call for support now!" Filara yelled.

Internally, Julland cursed. Knowing that he was now entangled with an enemy commander, he felt a burning acid of frustration growing in him. In the deadly game of chess he was playing with this unseen commander, he was starting to lose. Checkmate would mean more than losing the king


	12. Chapter 12

Although it was still the tranquil hours before dawn, Lucas and Harrvok could tell that the sun would not come today. Dark heavy clouds had formed on the horizon and soon a heavy downpour was literally covering them. The ground was carpeted in water while grainy mud formed around the footprints their boots left. There were a couple new additions to their equipment. Lucas was carrying more units of medigel. His armor, in addition to the night vision mod given to him by Harrvok, was also modified further by Jima to warn him of any known or possible pathogens he might encounter. Harrvok was also given the same mod and had the large radio pack on his back that also held some sample analyzers and more medical equipment. Finally, they also picked up one last addition.

"I never suspected that I would have to use this old equipment again." Chroso stated behind them. He was encased in Salarian armor and hesitantly accepted Harrvok's pistol. They could not tell if he was annoyed or truly bewildered.

"Thank you for coming with us and putting yourself on the line. We'll appreciate your insight on the local wildlife and such." Lucas simply replied. There had been some debate to bring the aging archaeologist with them, but it was decided that if the Salarian agreed, they could certainly used an expert in the area.

The commando was in the lead, his rifle eased next to his shoulder to be readied at a moment's notice. He did not like the rain water that was getting on his visor and rifle scope. This would throw all of them off. Harrvok also had his assault rifle ready although he was taking wider sweeps, scanning everything he could see. He was used to working behind the rest of the squad and was a bit uncomfortable with the fact that the only squad he had now was a lone sniper in front of him. Chroso decided that they were not even at the village and this was already more excitement than he wanted. He wondered what these two soldiers knew that he didn't. He decided that he already didn't like it.

--

Watching the numerous monitors in the comm room, Jima only vaguely noticed Dolphos furiously manning the controls as she tried to keep track of what was going on with her two away teams. The frustrating thing was that her medical tests could wait. There was little she could do with her away teams though. Granted, Lucas, Harrvok and Chroso seemed to be going swimmingly, at least for now. It was Julland she was concerned about. They had lost communication with them and the only reason they had any clue what was going on was because the backup systems on the soldiers' hardsuits had come on. The best Jima could get was their health display status but that was it. Dolphos was programming a satellite to give them an over view feed but that information would have to be interrupted every few minutes when the satellite's orbit took it too far away from the location. Even if he were to program a string of satellites there would still be small gaps in the information feed.

Jima was not sure what to do other than glare anxiously at the health readouts on Julland, Dalora, Shanata and Filara. Dolphos was still waving his assortment of tentacles over the controls, furiously trying to gain access to a satellite. Behind him, Jima stepped up towards the monitors, her arms folded in front of her to keep herself from wringing them.

"How much longer, Dolphos?" Jima asked quietly. She was not used to being this way. She honestly did not know what to do with herself.

"This one is almost done, noble Spectre. This one will need just a little while more." Dolphos apologized. Jima caught herself from sighing in impatience. Right now she was regretting promising Julland that she would not send over the entire _Shiloh_ unless things became drastic. She seriously considered pulling rank and disobeying her second in command. Yes, Julland had told her that doing that would compromise the whole ship and all signs showed that the mercenaries had the capability to do just that. Worried and frustrated, the anxiety gnawing inside her, the Quarian relented from her impulsive designs. She would only tell Talana to fire up the engines when things were drastic. She hoped she could stick to that decision. Regardless, this was still driving her mad.

"This one has completed the process. We should be able to get a visual feed in a few moments." Dolphos announced.

--

"Filara, there must be a way you could get some of our systems back online!" Julland shouted. If he could at least get the target locating system back at his disposal it would make his job much easier. Enemy fire was still cutting through the air around them like an angry swarm. Rain was falling everywhere. This was becoming more and more chaotic.

"I'm sorry, Commander. Unless my omni-tool is able to reboot its own system and repair itself, I will not be able to do that." the Asari apologized.

"How likely is that going to happen?" Julland asked.

"At this point, very unlikely." the Turian ground his teeth and his gaze went to each of soldiers around him who were looking back to him for direction. He had to make a very painful next move.

"All right, we can't retreat with all this fire and we cannot radio the _Shiloh_. We have to make this work. Shanata and Filara, you will work with me to take out those mounted guns. Dalora, use whatever you can to clear any soft targets that come our way." Julland ordered.

"Yes, Commander."

From there, the Turian and the marines took turns jumping from cover and firing at the rapid fire guns. They had to be careful since their shields still had not rebooted and Filara predicted they would be lucky if such a thing happened. At this point, if they wanted to take out the guns, they had to hope that they could confused the automated system by one distracting it while the others fired at it.

Dalora meanwhile silently gave thanks that she was a natural biotic who did not need an amp. Yes, it probably meant that she could not use her powers as rapidly as other biotics could but she found that when she concentrated on one particular power she could amplify its intensity to rival even the most powerful amp. Yes, it was tiring but adrenaline was a good compensation for that. She jumped at the sight of additional rounds flying at their direction.

"Dalora, we have infantry contacts!" Julland announced.

"I'm on it!" the vanguard replied, encasing herself in a brilliant shield before dashing from cover to get closer to the compound. The only reason Julland didn't scream for her to get back behind cover was because he trusted she knew what she was doing. He certainly hoped she did. He didn't want to explain to Lucas why his fiancée had enough metal in her to build a star ship.

Racing out into the open, her eyes both desperately searching for cover while angrily homing in on targets, Dalora ran as fast as her legs could carry her. The rain played a foreboding melody around her. She only faintly registered the columns of dust erupting from the ground when enemy fire strafed furiously towards her. When she felt a round bounce off her barrier she took it only as a warning. She needed to find cover, somewhere close where she could get a better view of what was going on. She found a stay crate built of heavy metal. She decided that would be a good position for now. Now she could only pray that the mercenaries didn't have any biotics of their own. She noted in melancholy the irony of the situation. Having thought she put this shameful past behind her, she was now instead feverishly running towards the embodiment of what had been her old trade.

--

Lucas was wanting more and more for the rain to go away. It was compromising his vision and despite the much appreciated night vision, it did not help when water was constantly on his visor. A little sun would have helped too.

"We're approaching the mile and half range, Lieutenant." Harrvok warned. A mile and a half from the epicenter of the quarantine. Lucas would have smiled if the situation was not so serious. It did not matter which rank or vocation a Turian had, any Turian soldier kept things professional. At least, that's what he surmised by how both Julland and now Harrvok addressed him first by his rank.

"All right. Chroso, stay back and follow Harrvok. I also want you guys to keep silent and follow my hand signals." the commando informed. Harrvok only nodded. Chroso, still unsure of what was going on, decided he would just shadow everything he saw the Turian do. They both waited in place as Lucas knelt on one knee and brought the scope of his rifle in front of him.

The commando did not like the circumstances. This was nothing but a flat plain ahead so he had no elevation to help him get a better view. From what he saw, it also appeared that there was no cover. In other words, he could only hope to keep things in their advantage by spotting possible hostiles first. Sometime told him that the wild animals he saw earlier were not all that welcoming. Dolphos certainly was not able to find any conclusive identification for them which also wasn't a good sign.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for as he scanned the gray outlines of the village buildings through his scope. The rain chased blurred streaks through the glass and he made a feeble attempt to wipe them off. In some ways, he almost half expected to see the ethereal grim reaper standing like no one's business in the middle of the city, scythe resting on a shoulder, his eternal grin staring back at Lucas. Of course, the embodiment of Death was not waiting for them in the city but considering how empty it was below the gray skies, it certainly seemed like it. He swept the rifle further, trying to take the whole horizon.

"Chroso." Lucas whispered quietly. The Salarian looked up at hearing his name. Lucas simply motioned with his hand to come up which the older amphibian meekly did.

Following the gestures, Chroso crouched down to peer into the scope of Lucas' rifle. He found himself looking at the image of what appeared to be a rather hideous creature. It walked on all fours, its paws ending in large and wicked looking claws. A muscular and robust body sat atop four spindly legs which seemed built for speed. The black body also held a angular head which seemed attached to a strong jaw. What horrified Chroso the most was that the jaw seemed reminiscent of the double spiked mouth parts commonly found on beetles and other insects.

"Ever seen an animal like that around here?" Lucas whispered.

"Never." Chroso answered. Keeping the conversation just above a whisper, Lucas turned back to Harrvok.

"You think these things could spread the disease?"

"Most likely. They could be carriers or they simply could be infected. Honestly, we can't be too sure." the Turian shrugged.

"Unless you suggest otherwise, I'm going to take them out." Lucas announced. Harrvok took note of the wind direction and decided that they were upwind. This would mean that any blood sprays would not go their direction. The Turian nodded the affirmative. Lucas shouldered the Dante again and took careful aim. He held his breath and watched the crosshair land right on the head of the creature.

A heavy explosion resounded over the plain.

--

Pelona watched forlornly as the machines ran what she was sure was yet another futile test. Honestly, why was it that the only time they got an answer on a disease was when it was already too late? By the time the disease was identified and its carrier isolated, countless people would already be dead. Then they would need to find a cure while other people stayed in danger. People who were currently searching blindly in a quarantine zone. People like Harrvok.

The Asari scientist mentally kicked herself for getting too emotional and tried to focus. She goaded herself into trying to think.

_"Come on, come on, Pelona. Think! You're two hundred years old, where have you seen this before?" _After a few moments, the Asari had the answer.

She couldn't remember. She simply could not for the two hundred year life of her remember. Dejected, she collapsed heavily in a nearby chair, her coat ruffling from the sudden movement. She never understood the human expression, but she supposed this was an appropriate time to say that she felt blue. Even the rats did not seem all with it now that she noticed them. She sighed heavily as she ran her fingers through the folds on her head. Come on, think!

Wait a minute...

The Asari carefully walked over to the rat cages. Carefully watching them, she noticed a marked change in their behavior. They were stumbling around as if drunk or disoriented. Some of them were trembling uncontrollably or had muscle tremors. Her brows narrowed. Where had she seen this before?

_"Ataxia...disorientation...degeneration of the central nervous system...neurological disease...not a virus, not a bacteria, not a parasite..." _

"Spongiform encephalitis." Pelona murmured. It was a condition where holes appeared in the brain of a creature, which explained all of the symptoms, including the secondary causes that inevitably led to death. There was also only one known cause for the various diseases that were spongiform encephalitis. It was not a virus, bacteria or parasite. They were all caused by a malicious protein.

Pelona turned pale.


	13. Chapter 13

Why is Death always smiling? Why is the Grim Reaper happy to do his grisly harvest? It is just because that is what he is suppose to do; he has no other purpose and he is perfectly fine with doing it. Its just a matter now that others get used to it because that's just the way things are.

The same is unfortunately true with malicious proteins, otherwise known as a prion.

A prion is simply a malformed or mis-folded protein. No one is too sure on how the first prion is formed, what causes the first protein to lose its original healthy shape. Regardless, when it happens, the malfunction is never corrected and instead, the first prion starts to effect other nearby proteins. They too become corrupted and malformed. An ongoing reaction occurs, a chain reaction that cannot be stopped. Cells, composed of proteins, start to die and are destroyed. This accounts for the holes in the brain of a victim which start to give it its sponge like shape, hence the name "spongiform encephalitis."

And like death, there is no known cure for it. Doctors can only diagnose it, try to find ways to avoid it and in the worse case scenario, simply ease the passing of those who were doomed to suffer its ravages.

Pelona worked like a madwoman.

Once she knew what she was looking for it was now no problem creating a test to diagnose whether someone was infected with it or not. The computer quickly found ways to identify the new prion form. After some high tech wrangling, she found a quick, simple and effective test. It just required a sample of cerebral spinal fluid. Okay, so a lumbar puncture wasn't the most comfortable or painless approach but when someone is about to have their brain eaten out, a simple needle to the back was the least of anyone's worries. However, the Asari was worried about something else.

How the heck did the original colonist get sick with this? What carried it? Where did it originate from? Time to get back to checking that particular batch of rats.

--

The first animal simply flash-incinerated seemingly the moment the boom echoed out of Lucas' rifle. Now was the moment of truth. All three of the men held their breath. They could hear the rain splashing off their helmets. Harrvok kept his rifle squarely shouldered, preferring to err on the side of caution. If these were stupid animals, he had no problem letting Lucas take them all out. He'd rather they not charge or find out where they were.

"See any more of them, Lucas?" Harrvok whispered above the dull roar of the rain. The downpour was picking up. Not good.

"Still looking." Lucas reported, still peering through his scope. The commando realized that there was one problem with having the wind to their back, keeping any microscopic sprays at bay. They were upwind. It was the one thing any hunter tried to avoid. The creatures would be able to smell them and the spent element zero from the rifles.

"I got two...they know something is up..." Lucas announced quietly. In his rifle, two of the creatures were standing relatively close to each other, at least what he could see. Which one to take out? The rain was interfering with his sights. He took a small consolation in that the water would at least cool the weapon just a little bit quicker. It wasn't sufficient compensation. Lucas went with the one he thought was closer.

Lucas felt the rifle kick and heard the inner mechanisms ready the next round while simultaneously cooling the components. He watched through his scope as the first creature simply explode, the other thrown to the ground by the blast. It opened its mouth, Lucas assumed that it was crying in pain. Can't tell from these distances. That's when he noticed more figures materializing.

Lucas motioned to Harrvok to keep his eyes peeled. Lucas was getting more contacts. A lot more. To make matters worse, he noticed they were all looking at their direction.

"I'm going to warn you men right now...I think they're onto us." the commando cautioned. Chroso flinched as the Dante went off again.

"Y-you mean we should get our weapons ready?" Chroso asked.

"My friend, that should have been done a long time ago. You should get ready to start firing it." Lucas replied. Meanwhile, Harrvok started taking abrupt sweeps with his rifle, still sighting his weapon.

"Lucas, I need you to stop peering through that scope and look at something." the Turian stated quietly.

"What?" Lucas demanded, sounding a bit annoyed. He had just seen those creatures starting to trot towards their direction. He wasn't sure they spotted them yet but he knew that they knew the general direction to go in.

"Look at the horizon." Harrvok instructed, pointing with a talon. Lucas then saw what the Turian field medic had seen awhile ago. At first Lucas did not want to believe it. He even strained the optical implants in his eyes to confirm his worse fear.

"Crud..." All along the horizon were small black dots. There were at least twenty of them. Each black dot was one of the creatures Lucas had shot. By now it was pretty certain that those creatures knew exactly where to attack.

"Harrvok, I'm going to take down as many as I can at these ranges. You and Chroso better start firing as they get closer..." Lucas stated, a pang of urgency in his voice. The sniper got back to his weapon and furiously worked the rifle. He prayed it wouldn't critically overheat anytime soon.

--

Julland spat off a few more rounds from his assault rifle before quickly diving back behind the cover of the Mako hull. The heavy rounds from the mounted guns slammed into the rover while spraying water all over from the rain. The Turian instinctively flinched when some of the water droplets hit him, reacting as if he got hit by real shrapnel. Looking over, he saw Shanata and Filara taking their turn before also being driven back behind cover.

"Those mercenaries are starting to cover the guns. We're losing fire superiority and they'll have us pinned down. Why isn't Dalora doing anything?" Shanata demanded. Julland wondered himself.

"Patience, I'm sure she knows what she's doing." Julland ordered. _"I hope she knows what she's doing." _

In fact, Dalora was still trying to figure out what exactly she was doing. She knew that they were already vastly outgunned from the mounted machine guns and that the arrival of the other mercenaries did not help them at all. What would be the most efficient move for her to do? Preferably, it was hoped she could take out both problems without getting a round planted between her eyes. Her head slowly drifted up until she saw the stream of rounds flying overhead. The former mercenary suddenly got her idea.

Glowing blue, Dalora prayed that her guess would be correct and she lit up a strategically placed singularity field. She could only hope that she guessed right. Her spirits lifted when she noticed the stray rounds, presumably from the mercenaries, starting to slack and the mounted gun rounds beginning to dwindle. Maybe she got it right.

Back behind the Mako, Julland did the best a Turian could to make a full grin. Even the Asari were a little shocked.

"Well, that's effective." Filara commented.

"And insidious...I like it." Shanata added.

"Quick, take out the guns, ignore the mercenaries." Julland ordered, firing his assault rifle. Shanata and Filara both joined in, now relatively safe from the mounted guns.

Dalora had opened a singularity rift right in front of the mounted guns. The powerful suction from the field had lifted the mercenaries off their feet and right into the path of the guns. Their bodies quickly became organic protection as the guns kept firing at where it assumed the hostiles were but now the rounds were stopping right into the bodies of the mercenaries. Taking a moment to regain her strength, Dalora sighed just in time to hear the two guns explode in a shower of debris. That was a relief. A couple moments later, after she was certain the dead bodies had collapsed back to the ground, she saw Julland and the two Asaris rushing toward her direction. She noticed Filara looking forlornly at the broken hull of the Mako. This was going to mean more overtime work for her.

"No time to rest, we have to take that compound out now!" Julland yelled, assault rifle still ready. Taking another breath and nodding, Dalora readied her shotgun, a round already in the chamber, and rushed into formation with them.

--

"They've taken out our defenses, McDowel." a technician announced. The team of computer jockeys and information crunchers waited apprehensively for their commander's next move.

"Should we send the next wave of our men?" another suggested. McDowell only shook his head.

"No. Prepare the combat drones. All of them. Have our men waiting in the other room. Send the drones out on my mark." McDowell ordered, still holding a persona of confidence.

"Yes, sir! They'll never see them coming."

"No they won't...no they won't." McDowell murmured in agreement.

--

Jima had allowed this one circumstance to be the only one to pull her away from the status screens that told her how her away teams were doing. Anxiety was already making good progress dissecting her insides out from her, this wasn't helping at all.

The Quarian doctor was joined by Dr. Hiprotos who was the only other physician informed of Dr. Pelona Sivini's discovery. A prion was going to be another creature altogether. Prions, malformed proteins, simply could not be destroyed the way bacteria or viruses could. In fact, they were much harder to eliminate and it was already almost a given that they would not be able to find a cure for it. In other words, contracting it already put someone beyond hope. They're only option now was to prevent infection. The problem was figuring out where it originated.

"All right Pelona, you remember which batch the rat came from?" Dr. Hiprotos asked as all three of them rushed back towards the labs.

"Yes, box number 43." Pelona announced.

"Good, we'll pull up the history of those rats and hopefully that'll narrow down where the prion is hiding." Jima agreed. All they needed to do was read what those rats had been exposed to. Pelona nodded her head as she opened the doors to the labs.

"Right, should be a fairly simple operat-...oh no..." Pelona stated softly. The very first thing they they saw coming in were the rat cages. The rats of cage 43 were clearly stumbling around and losing motor control. However, it looked like the rats in cages 44 and 42 seemed to be suffering the same effects. So were all the rats in the 40s row. In fact, it seemed that _all_ the rats in _all_ the cages were acting that way. Some were stumbling into the glass walls, others staggering in incoherent, aimless directions. Others were very much dead.

"This...does not narrow down where the prion is at all." Hiprotos stated through gritted teeth, fear and frustration mingling in him.

"No...but this might help..." Jima stated softly, pointing out one particular box of very sick rats.

"What's so special about that one?" Hiprotos demanded. Pelona suddenly recognized it and clearly became very pale.

"It's the control box...these rats should have had nothing in common with the other rats. They weren't suppose to be exposed to anything that might have infected them." Jima explained.

"Right, but they're clearly infected." Hiprotos stated. Pelona simply kept both her hands over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Or sobbing. Perhaps both. Regardless, the prion was showing that it wasn't going to let this become any easier.

--

Harrvok was breathing in heavy, ragged breaths. He was surprised Chroso didn't simply lie down and die of a heart attack. The Salarian was trembling fitfully, even under the thick skin of his armor. The Turian once again shouldered his rifle and took one last defensive sweep before he was convinced they got every last one of the creatures. Satisfied, he lowered his assault rifle, spent wisps of element zero still trailing from the hot barrel.

"You all right, Lieutenant?" Harrvok asked.

"Yeah, great. Just great." Lucas panted, also heavily exerted. His left hand still clutched a bloodied survival knife. His other left hand held tightly to the Dante rifle. Open slits along the side of the rifle was clearly billowing out burning hot air. The Dante had critically overheated just a few minutes ago from the stress of constant fire. Normally, the rifle would expel the heat in steady shots but once exerted, the rifle would start storing heat in its internal heat sinks. Exert it too much and the rifle simply would shut down while all its energy focused to remove all the heat. Lucas had to resort to the survival knife.

"No one got bitten, right?" Harrvok asked.

"Nope." the commando answered confidently. Chroso simply flopped his head in the negative.

"I don't think so either, but don't try to be heroic, act in denial or shrug it off. If you really think you got bit, now is the time to talk." the Turian battlefield medic warned. He was greeted with the same set of answers.

"All right..." the Turian stated, removing the radio from his back and staring at the pile of bodies scattered around them.

"I better take a sample." Harrvok announced.

"Thank God they don't have any armor, otherwise this wouldn't have ended so well." Lucas murmured, keeping his eye on his still incapacitated sniper rifle.

"I've never seen these things around here before. Well, is that it? Can we turn around?" Chroso demanded.

"I wish, but no. We still have to find the field agents." Lucas replied.

"Judging by the former behavior of these things, we're only looking for what's left of them." Chroso grumbled.

"One part of me says don't talk like that." Lucas retorted.

"What do the other parts say?" the Salarian inquired.

"You're probably right."

Meanwhile, Harrvok was busy collecting swab samples from both the open wounds of the creatures and saliva from the large, beetle like jaws. He looked up at the lonely building outlines on the horizon as he finished.

"We better continue." Harrvok said.

"Right. I'll take point." Lucas answered, once again taking the lead.

--

Defeat. Bafflement. Despair. Anger. Frustration. Utterly demoralized. These were just a few ways to describe what Jima, Pelona and Dr. Hiprotos were feeling as they all sat around staring at the lab rats of the control group. Of course, someone could point out that if they felt that bad, someone could only image what the rats were feeling but that would have to wait for another day.

"How in the world could the control rats been infected? Prions can't be transmitted through the air, can they?" Hiprotos asked in exasperation.

"Never heard of one. Although that doesn't mean we can rule it out, I still think it's unlikely." Jima commentated, her head resting in a paw as she stared at the dying rats, hoping to get an epiphany.

"I don't get it. The control group was not exposed to anything. The system monitor history shows that they were not exposed to any contamination, even airborne ones. What's going on?" Pelona whined.

"There's got to be something we overlooked." Jima murmured. Pelona simply wanted to collapse and give up in helpless tears. She realized in the back of her mind that she had never been this emotional over her work. Another more secret part of her told her that it was because she was upset for Harrvok's safety but she quickly shuffled that to a small part of her soul that becomes victim to denial. Before Jima could respond, Dolphos sent a transmission to her.

"Noble Spectre, this one has good news and bad news to report to you." the Hanar announced.

"Bad news first." Jima stated quickly before her emotions would cause her to lock up.

"The bad news is mingled with good news. Julland and his team have passed the first wave of marauders and are making their way into the compound. The bad news is that this one will no longer be able to track them via satellite with them inside a building."

"But I thought satellites could do that." Jima argued.

"This one must admit that these are not military grade satellites." the Hanar replied blankly.

"Oh. Sorry. What's the good news?" Jima asked sheepishly.

"The innovative Merjj and his engineering team have smartly rigged up a drone that will send the necessary supplies for Julland's team to repair their electronics. It will be launching in two minutes and will arrive on their location in another two minutes." Dolphos announced.

"Wonderful. How about Lucas and his team?" Jima asked.

"They have made it within the village grounds. They have reported no serious trouble yet."

"Very good. Let me know if anything critical happens." Jima ordered.

"This one understands clearly. _Shiloh _out." Dolphos ended the transmission. Jima was just about to take a quick breath to steady herself when she noticed Pelona's head bolt up from resting in her arms.

"What? What's the matter?" Hiprotos demanded.

"Dr. Sivini, it looks like you have an epiphany." Jima commentated.

"Oh-Oh goddess...I...I just..." the panicked Asari desperately shot off from the table and rushed back towards the lab. Jima and Hiprotos scrambled after her.

"My gosh, is everything going crazy around here?" Hiprotos growled.

"I'm starting to wonder what sanity looked like myself." Jima mumbled.

--

Diplomacy went out the window. Chroso was a bit intimidated by the soldiers' abrupt approach to examining the buildings of the village. Harrvok would simply kick the doors in while Lucas would immediately step inside, pistol and knife drawn and take a quick sweep. They systematically swept each house and building. None of the hellhounds, (which Lucas took to calling the creatures) bodies, or more importantly, signs of Eulias and Siera, could be found. After the last building was finished, Lucas replaced the two weapons to retrieve his rifle. Now, the two soldiers were leading the way with a determined gait. The Salarian immediately sensed that things were going to go from bad to worse.

"Well, that's everything? What more do you boys want? There's nothing else I can help with here." Chroso said as firmly as he could. Truth be told, he was just scared out of his wits.

"Actually, your talents are probably going to become more desperately needed in a couple minutes." Lucas announced, his rifle sweeping in every which direction as they walked towards the fields.

"Why?" Chroso demanded. Harrvok decided to answer, also stubbornly clutching his assault rifle.

"Because there's a hole in the field that opened up. We have to check it." the Turian replied.

"A hole? You boys dragged me out here to look at a dent in the earth?" the Salarian spat.

"I have a feeling its more than a dent in the earth. If Eulias and Siera are not around here and not sending out radio calls, then that dark pit may be more than a hole in the ground." Lucas answered. Chroso gulped. For the first time in his life, he wished he wasn't an archaeologist.


	14. Chapter 14

Jima and Dr. Hiprotos found Pelona tossing aside boxes and other containers back in the lab. Behind her, the rats were deteriorating at a rapid pace. Obviously, she was desperately searching for something but the Quarian and human doctor could not readily guess what exactly she was looking for. Whatever it was, it seemed rather important to the Asari at the moment. Her eyes were pleading behind the thin glasses.

"Dr. Sivini, I demand an explanation for this." Hiprotos barked.

"The rats were doing well until today." Pelona simply replied.

"Yes, that's the first real break we've had since we got here. That still doesn't answer my question." Hiprotos retorted.

"But whatever it was that got the rats, it also got the control group which was not exposed to anything the test rats were subjected to." the Asari continued.

"Already established, doctor." Hiprotos grumbled.

"I think I know the only thing that could have caused all of the rats to be contaminated." Pelona finally revealed, finding the box she seemed to be looking for.

"What is it?" Jima inquired. Pelona set the container down before them, a mess of dark green leaves sat placidly inside.

"Yesterday, we ran out of rat food. The team started collecting the local greens to feed the rats." Pelona explained.

"You think the prion originated in these plants?" Hiprotos asked quietly.

"It wouldn't be unprecedented. We've found prions in plants and fungi before. In fact, some have suggested that fungus may in fact benefit from the prions." Jima informed.

"But the proteins in a fungus are different from a mammals, such as rats or people." Hiprotos countered.

"It's a big universe out there. Besides, its our only guess at this point." Pelona shrugged.

"Well, I hope this guess turns out to be wrong..." Hiprotos murmured.

"Why?" Pelona demanded.

"Because a couple days ago our rations started to run out and the doctors ran a search for local edible foods. We've been using the same plants to supplement our rations."

--

Lucas vaguely remembered being quite the explorer as a kid. There were a couple times he went spelunking in his life, the thrill of going someplace dark and foreboding. He could also remember exploring ancient castle remains. He even remembered one trip to the Yucatan where he searched the old Aztec and Mayan ruins. Those had been fun times, searching through places that had the atmosphere of antiquity and so many years of history laden upon them.

This however just scared the crap out of you.

The special forces ranger peered as far as the light would let him. The open hole in the ground a had a sloping bottom so all of them could comfortably step inside. At least the rain wasn't flooding it or interfering with their vision now. Instead, the current darkness would do more damage than the rain ever did.

"I'm going to regret giving you that night vision mod, Lieutenant." Harrvok murmured.

"Your suits still have light ports, don't they?" Lucas asked Chroso and Harrvok.

"Yes, but that just gives away our position." the Turian grumbled.

"So could we just go back and ask for reinforcements?" Chroso asked.

"No. I completely agree with you Harrvok, but I don't think we have too much of a choice. I'll keep my night vision on and look ahead. I'll let you guys know when to turn on your lights so you don't have to stumble all the time." Lucas suggested, returning his rifle on his back to retrieve his pistol.

Harrvok remembered being on only two missions in his career where they were on the dark side of a planet. The Turian military did things the proper way so each soldier was equipped with night vision visors. Still, Turians were not nocturnal creatures, along with most humans and Salarians. A primordial part of their brains told them that night time increased the danger to their well being. Who knew what kind of predators could be lurking in the dark, or at least more specifically, in here?

Chroso felt a chill at the base of his spine and immediately was confused. The Salarian was normally not superstitious save in one area of his life. The archaeologist had learned that for some reason that feeling was a good sign. He got that every time he had begun to step into one of the bigger finds of his life. It all started the first time he stepped into a Prothean ruin and found that tablet that researchers are still hoping will help point to deciphering the Prothean language and learn more of their history. Why would that good feeling go off in a place as foreboding as this?

"Prepare your weapons and let me know when you're done. After that we'll kill the lights and I'll lead the way." Lucas ordered, making sure his inferno rounds were securely loaded into his Razer pistol. Perhaps they were not as devastating as explosive rounds, but painful nonetheless. The infiltrator probably had a touch of pyromania.

"Ready." Harrvok stated, placing a talon on Lucas shoulder so he could be led.

"Um. Yeah. Like I have a choice." Chroso muttered, planting a paw on a notch in the Turian's armor since he could reach to the combatant's shoulder.

"All right, kill the lights. I'll let you know when to turn them on." Lucas stated. With no further ado, the infiltrator led them into the darkness.

--

They were nearly at the compound door. Dalora was leading the way, encased in a biotic barrier. In a way, she was willingly using herself as a human shield. Julland was right behind her while Filara and Shanata brought up the rear. Julland looked behind at the Asari military engineer.

"Filara, throw a grenade at the door and detonate it. We can't run the risk of not being able to hack in. Everyone, prepare for whatever resistance lies behind that door!" Julland ordered.

"Sir, yes sir!" Filara barked and flung a grenade in sync with her stride. The ordnance exploded after momentarily hitting the door, blowing the barrier into fragments. All of the soldiers stared down their sights to find the room empty, another set of doors behind it. Julland made it to the door, stepped to the side and signaled to the others to regroup around him.

"All right, Filara, at my signal you will blow up this set of doors. I'm almost certain the mercenaries will be in there. Since our shields are still not up, we need to play this carefully. I have two canisters of smoke grenades on me so we have some leeway but not a lot." Julland explained.

"Commander, I got a visual on something." Shanata interrupted, her watchful eyes trained behind her gun sights. Julland looked over and strained his strong Turian eyes.

"It looks like a very badly built air drone...there's something written on its side..." he murmured.

"I see it too. I think it starts with an 'S.'" Filara added.

"Shiloh? You think the _Shiloh_ sent us something?" Dalora offered.

"Possibly. I'm sure Dolphos figured something had gone wrong with our electronics and probably told Merjj and his boys to throw something together." Julland shrugged. By now, the drone was hovering ever closer towards their position, just a few feet off the ground and getting nearer to them. Regardless, Julland, Dalora and the Asaris still held their positions at the sides of the door entrance.

"Haha, we got to thank that Hanar and the Salarian when we get back from this!" Filara giggled.

And at that moment, the secondary door slid open and vomited out a swarm of battle drones. The very first thing in the mechanical warriors' sight was the foreign drone right in front of them. Needless to say, their programing told them to destroy it which they promptly did so.

--

Lucas glanced down the hall, peering into the darkness of the tunnel that his night vision pierced. So far so good. That's when the infiltrator noticed the structure of the walls started to change into something different. It seemed that the rough rock and dirt was starting to become more organized. Lucas whispered to the men behind him.

"Guys, turn on your lights. Chroso, I think I got something you'd like to see."

"What's that?" the Salarian asked.

"Look over there." Lucas pointed up and in front of him. The Salarian archaeologist peered from over Lucas' side and squinted at the proper area.

"That looks like a stone wall or something of that nature. There's a stylistic pattern to it too. We may be entering some ruins." Chroso suggested.

"Ruins? Anything you know about?" Harrvok asked. By now Chroso was as close as he could get to it. The dirtied, bluish grayish stone had been weathered throughout the countless years. Dust and mud were thickly adhering to them as well.

"Hmm, nothing I recognize yet. Doesn't look like any civilization I know of." Chroso answered, running a finger through the dust that had built up over time. The stone block still appeared decrepit with age.

"Chroso..." Lucas whispered.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Chroso asked, still examining the rocks.

"Don't move..." Chroso suddenly stiffened up.

"They're behind me, aren't they?" Chroso whimpered his teeth started to chatter. Of all times the hellhounds decide to show up.

"About five. Yes." Lucas answered, he and Harrvok taking aim at the shadows in the dark.

--

Jima, Pelona and Dr. Hiprotos all anxiously waited for the results printout from the computer. Several samples of the plant were taken ranging from its leaves and stem and were being tested for the presence of the prion. Sitting around and waiting were not high in the mind of any of the doctors. Instead, they were all forced to do exactly what they were doing now, doggedly sitting in front of the printer.

"What happens if these come back positive?" Pelona asked, more out of to relieve stress and worry more than anything else. Dr. Hiprotos groaned.

"Dr. Sivini, I really don't want to start assuming that."

"We'll take this one step at a time." Jima instructed.

"Rrrgh, how long can it take to test for a single misfolded protein?" Pelona growled with impatience, throwing her hands to the air.

"Look, I know the suspense is getting to us, but we have to stay calm." Jima said. The Quarian was worried about her away teams. If anything, she suspected she would lose it first before they did. At least, she thought she had more of a right than them. However, she was the Spectre, she had to lead. Gosh, she hated that title.

"Easy for you to say! You're not the one that ingested any of that stuff!" Dr Hiprotos shouted, obviously suddenly going off the deep end.

"Dr. Hiprotos, Quarian doctors take a different oath than most doctors of other species. I will have no problem sedating you even against your own will. I'm also told that since I'm a Spectre, I can get away with it." Jima warned, though in all reality it was more of a half empty threat. Hiprotos only sneered.

"Fine, fine..."

Pelona was silently relieved but only in a twisted sort of way about that. She and Harrvok were always working long hours and therefore missed when the kitchens were serving the hot food with the local stuff. They always were forced to eat those ready to prepare rations. Apparently, quietly suffering with those artificial nutrient packets suddenly had paid off. However, its not like she felt bad for her co-workers. Of course, they could be completely wrong about the plants. Suddenly, they heard the printer come to life. Jima's numb fingers were already cautiously lifting the sheet to read.

Pelona noticed the reflection of the results shine off of Jima's visor but none of them could read the image from where they were standing. Both Pelona and Dr. Hiprotos felt deathly numb in the pit of their stomach. It was Pelona who spoke first.

"Spectre..."

"Yes?"

"What does it say?" the Asari quietly asked. Jima hesitated.

"The plants are positive for the source of the prion."

--

Crouched down, thinking fast, Julland could only count the loss of the drone as a warning of what they were going up against. Better to lose a machine than lose one of his soldiers. The intrepid Turian reached to his waist and flung a grenade into the room before returning to his original position with his back next to the entranceway. A heavy concussive explosion roared out of the enclosure just a few seconds later. Shanata chanced a look into the room before throwing a grenade herself. Another explosion tore through the room. The sound of drone engines revving fell silent. Dalora made the first move.

The former mercenary rolled into the doorway, shotgun forward while a biotic barrier rippled over her. Julland watched her with bated breath.

"It's clear." Dalora announced, answering his unspoken question.

"The entrance doorway is still open as well." Shanata added, taking her place behind Dalora. Once again, Julland had to make a painful decision. Did they keep waiting out here for the enemy to come to them? That might give time for the mercenaries to call in reinforcements and Julland could not take that risk in their present state of circumstances. He also wasn't keen on waiting for more help from the _Shiloh_. How then were they going to attack the rest of the compound when he did not know the layout, did not know how many more mercenaries were in there and he and his team did not have any shields or electronic support.

"Follow my lead!" Julland roared and tossed a canister into the open doorway in the back. The Turian Commander led his soldiers into the unknown, the cloud cover from the smoke grenade billowing in front of them. In the chaos of the lost visibility, Julland could only hope that perhaps the chess match was shifting.

--

Harrvok heard the radio go off. The Turian could not believe it. The radio on his back was actually going off. Of all the times for it to receive a message.

"Away team two, this is Spectre Jima, we have some important information for you." Jima's voice came in. Harrvok was almost exasperated at the way this situation was going.

"Uh...Spectre this is a rather bad time..." Harrvok grumbled.

"Wait-Harvok, is that gunfire I hear?" Jima's voice inquired.

Harrvok was very much in fact unleashing a torrent of rounds from his assault rifle. If only the Quarian could see what exactly was going on. From the depth of the cave the hellhounds seem to constantly be flowing at their position. The original five seemed to have multiplied to legion. Chroso was backing away while firing his pistol erratically. Harrvok himself was keeping his assault rifle trained at where the bulk of the demons were coming from, praying that the rifle would not overheat any time soon. The shredder rounds were doing a number on the unarmored foes. Chunks of flesh were spraying everywhere, having been ripped from their original owners. Lucas was taking any that Harrvok missed, the hounds that fell to his pistol falling before erupting in flames from the inferno rounds.

"Yes, lots of gunfire. Can't explain. Bad time. Under attack." Harrvok grunted. Jima was able to hear Lucas yell while driving his deadly survival knife into the face of a hellhound that got too close.

"Look, you're going to want to know this. The local plants at the village carry the prion. We're downloading the specific data to you guys now. Please report back when things calm down." Jima finished.

"Affirmative." Harrvok muttered, hoping they would in fact be able to report back soon. He heard Chroso starting to scream though he was certain that a hellhound had not been able to touch the Salarian. What was the archaeologist screaming about then?

In the madness here under the tunnels, when the dark flickers in the light of gunfire, perhaps it was only proper to start screaming.


	15. Chapter 15

It is the waiting march of the grim, the fearful, the hopeful, the dutiful and the morbidly inclined. It is the line of those who voluntarily came, those who forced themselves to come, and those compelled to participate. No one wanted to be there. All wanted the truth to set them free. At least there is some comfort in knowing that you're a biological bomb waiting to go off. You have time to write a will, not spread it to other people and live the rest of your life like you were dying.

Pelona told herself this, perhaps just to ease the unhealthy, gnawing emotions if only little.

The Asari pathologist knew that she herself was one of the paranoid, seeing the line of emotionless doctors waiting to get their lumbar puncture. There just had to be a better way of testing for disease. Here they all were, goddess knew who was infected, who was not, and who was infected with something else altogether. A stray cough could aerosolize something dangerous and she knew she heard at least one cough back there. The particles in that would be quickly breathed in by nearly everyone within the room. Or how about that one Salarian over there rubbing an itchy eye? What microscopic, beastly pathogen might be hiding in his eye or hand? And now he's touching someone's shoulder to ask a question?

She told herself to stop this or her sanity would go kaput.

"Dr. Sivini?" an electronic voice asked. She turned around to find Spectre Jima gazing at her, the proper syringe for lumbar punctures in her hand.

"I'm going to need to test you soon, regardless of whether or not you ate the plants." the Quarian informed.

"Yes. Yes of course. I'll wait...till everyone is gone." Pelona answered, her paranoia of infection flaring at the sight of the line again. She did understand then need for precaution, though.

"Very well." Jima answered numbly. She was wondering how her away teams were doing.

--

Harrvok felt his shoulder becoming raw after such prolonged periods of sustained fire in the tunnels. He wondered why the hellhounds never stopped coming seeing there was literally a morbid blanket of them running down at least a twenty foot length running into the cave. The Turian battle medic immediately concluded two things. One, it had been too long since he had fired a rifle. Two, judging by the heat monitor, he was dangerously close to overheating his weapon.

_"Come on, come on...stop coming already!" _

Lucas was aware of another two things. One, the number of the hounds attacking was starting to taper off but that did not make the situation any less terrifying. Two, he was no longer using his pistol, the weapon having dropped from his hand in the chaos. Instead, he was thrusting and slashing his terrifyingly keen combat blade with his right hand while using his left to deal quick abrupt blows. Thank God for combat armor.

Chroso was also aware of yet another two things. First, he was terrified out of his mind and fired his pistol automatically and erratically at anything that appeared deadly. A rational part of his mind told him this was bad as he might accidentally hurt one of his comrades but the rest of his brain screamed to him that he was in mortal danger. Kill everything! They're the ones that dragged him here in the first place. Second, he was in a bind. Literally. He wasn't sure if it was because his nerves had locked up on him. He literally felt pinned.

"Rrrrgggh!" Lucas snarled as he found himself set upon by a hellhound. The creature reared up, front claws coming at him while its deadly jaws opened to strike. The commando caught one of the claws coming at him with his left hand. He jabbed the deadly straight point of his blade into the creature's throat before throwing the dying animal to the ground. Everything became silent.

"I-I think that's it." Lucas panted, suddenly wondering what to do about the dripping gore on his survival knife.

"Everyone all right? I'm starting to analyze the information the labs sent us. These creatures could be infected with it so did any of you get a breech in your armor?" Harrvok asked. He was immediately dismayed at the scratch marks on Lucas' protection. Lucas immediately sensed this.

"I don't feel any pain. I don't recall getting bit or scratched through the armor."

"That could be just adrenaline. Run a more thorough diagnostic." Harrvok instructed. Lucas readily complied. His stomach tightened just a bit as he waited for his omni-tool to give him the news. They all heard it beep in a few moments.

"Haha, nothing breeched the armor. I'm good." Lucas announced.

"Well...as far as we know. How about you Chroso?" the Turian asked.

"Other than scared out of my wits, nearly turned into lunch, doing things I shouldn't be doing at my age and losing all the love I had for my life's volition? I'm just great." the Salarian snapped sarcastically before becoming more thoughtful.

"I seem to be stuck, though."

"Stuck?" Lucas asked curiously.

"Yeah, what' do you mean?" Harrvok inquired.

"As in I can't move." Chroso jerked trying to move towards them but bounced back to his original position from an unknown force. The two soldiers were rather perplexed. That's when Lucas noticed the problem.

"That's because there's a root in your way." the soldier pointed.

"But how is it stuck to me? It's just right across my armor, is it sticky or something?" Chroso asked. Before anyone could offer suggestions, they heard a movement.

Harrvok immediately reacted and faced the proper direction, assault rifle shouldered and ready. The dead body of one of the hellhounds jerked as if being dragged across the ground. Lucas squinted, not understanding how that was happening as he retrieved his pistol. How could a perfect dead animal move like that on its back? Was something dragging it?

"Um...guys...look at the root next to it..." Chroso gulped.

One of the plant roots next to the animal not only appeared to growing next to it, it literally, if slowly, moved out of its place to coil itself around the creature. The men noticed more blood flows appearing on the dead creature.

"Its...it's growing roots into the body." Harrvok suddenly realized. An epiphany slugged them all on the back of the head like a heavy lead pipe landing. They all looked back at a very petrified Chroso.

"We better get you detached from that thing." Lucas stated urgently.

--

Humans have a saying that goes along the lines of "Out of the frying pan, into the fire." For Julland and his team, it was out of Mako, past the guns and mercs, past the combat drones, out of the smoke and into a firestorm. It started the moment all four of them simultaneously were unveiled from the smoke.

All of them had the instinct to immediately search for cover once arriving out of the fumes. However, even battle hardened Julland was surprised by how quick the mercenaries were firing on them. It was as if they did not even have a chance to step out of the darkness of the smoke.

The Turian commander was desperately trying to get his bearings around the room. There were plenty of counters and other obstacles in the area. The entire room seem to lead to a single circular raised area which seemed to be the center of command. In fact, it appeared as if the place was a large circle. The problem was that there were plenty of mercenaries with equally available firepower to rain chaos on them. Julland wished the tactical analyzer on his left eye wasn't fried. It could have certainly helped in this situation. His back to a counter, he was vaguely aware of bullets flying above and beside him while he tried to figure out where his other teammates were.

Shanata and Filara were not far, a couple feet to his side also crouching behind a counter. It seem like there was nothing but a constant hail of firing coming their way. Honestly, how could those mercs keep the fire up like that? Julland also caught a glimpse of Dalora lighting herself up with a biotic barrier before rushing further up. He prayed Dalora knew what she was doing because his confidence was dwindling rapidly with each passing second. He couldn't believe it. He and his whole team were essentially pinned down and he had no clue what to do. Somewhere in his mind, the voice of an old drill sergeant was explaining everything his tactical reasoning was telling him.

_"Stay pinned down too long and you're dead. Fall back in a situation like this and you're probably dead. You can't retreat too far so that means you'll be dead. You can't call for help so you might as well be dead. Even if help were to come and Dr. Jima thinks she can set her foot in firefight like this without training she'll be dead. Any way to make yourself undead?" _

The Turian felt a bead of sweat run down his forehead as he ground his teeth.

_"Good luck with that answer, but you better come up with it quickly or you'll all be dead." _

--

Pelona slowly felt herself calming down as she sat in a chair. There was still quite a line to go so she had awhile before the test would start. The Asari pathologist let herself sigh as she clasped nervously her hands in her lap. It had been a harrowing few days but at least things were starting to be resolved. Yes, she still was not sure what to do with those who would be infected with it. She hoped, prayed that no one on staff would have it. She did not know how likely that would be but something told her that more than a few people would be getting a death sentence as she watched them file by. As for herself? Pelona was a little more than certain she was not infected. That was more than just denial. The plants had it and she had not eaten the plants. She was certain of it. All of the food rations she had consumed came in their own packages with their own eating utensils.

She wondered if some new regulation would come about from this. She could see it now. All Citadel Extreme Medical Situation Response would be forced to eat only the regulation issued food rations to prevent things like this from happening again.

But what about Harrvok? Truth be told, that was why she still felt such an...emptiness within her. Somehow the icy waters of fear had crept into that emptiness and now she could not help but wonder if he was safe. Why weren't they back yet? She told herself that it was scarcely late morning and that a search team may take more than a day. It sure looked like they would not be turning around until they got an answer. She hoped they had found what they were looking for and were in fact heading back as they spoke. She could only hope.

Jima personally could not let herself worry about her two away teams. Yes, it took every ounce of determination and will to pry herself from Harrvok's disturbing transmission and return here to take care of her duties as a doctor and test for infections. Yes, there was no telling exactly how Julland, Dalora, Shanata and Filara were doing. All they had were their health readouts and that was woefully inadequate to summarize any hostile situation. However, it was all she could go an and right now she was needed as a doctor to help here in the labs. Dr. Hiprotos approached her. He had become a bit more somber.

"Spectre Jima..."

"You may call me 'Doctor.' I see myself less as a special tactics soldier and more of a physician." Jima replied.

"Whatever you wish. Look, I just want to apologize for my outburst back there. I lost my cool and...well, I was afraid." the human doctor admitted.

"I understand, Dr. Hiprotos. I don't hold it against you."

"Just how did you keep calm during the Apollyon crisis?" Hiprotos asked.

"In all reality, I don't know. It was just focusing on one crisis after the other. My friend's were depending on me with their lives. I almost had no choice but to keep my cool. That doesn't mean I wasn't afraid, though. I have never been more frightened in my life." Jima explained.

"It's nice to know that even Spectres can feel afraid."

"That's because Spectres are just like everyone else. They were just chosen to be given some greater responsibility. All of us are like Spectres in our own right, so long as we do our duty above and beyond its call. You never know which of the small insignificant actions you make may save a life." Jima said.

"And which of our small insignificant ones may take a life, accidentally or no?" Hiprotos demanded, an eyebrow raised. Doctors knew that side of the equation too well.

"Just do what you can for the greater good." Jima murmured. She was preparing the needle for another test when the communications link next to her ear blared to life. It startled her.

"Spectre Jima, this one must report a problem!" Dolphos announced abruptly. Jima was immediately worried. She had never heard Dolphos' voice like that. This could not be good.

"What's wrong?" Jima asked.

"This one was watching the health readouts of Julland's team. One of the marines, Shanata, her health suddenly went red. She may be in critical condition." Jima felt something cold and hard hit her in the stomach.

"I'll be right over." Jima stated as calmly as she could before she turned to Dr. Hiprotos.

"One of my crew members is in trouble. I can't continue here, sorry." Jima said more urgently than apologetically before quickly exiting. Pelona, who had been sitting nearby, overheard what the Spectre had said. It did not help her anxieties either.

--

"Get it off, get it off!" Chroso flailed, desperately tugging at the apparently carnivorous plant. Harrvok was in front of the panicked Salarian also trying to pull the root off while Lucas was behind, pulling Chroso in the opposite direction.

"Chroso, has the root gotten into you?" Harrvok asked urgently over the rabble.

"Get it off!" Chroso screamed for the upteenth time.

"Hold still!" Lucas ordered before everyone heard steel whistling through the air. Chroso and Harrvok fell into a heap in one spot and the stump of the root fell in another. Everyone drew a relieved breath.

"Can't personally say I've seen a plant do something like that. Sure, there are Venus Fly Traps back at earth but that was just a bit too aggressive." Lucas murmured, examining what was left of the root, prodding the tissue with the tip of his blade.

"I don't see any blood but let me run a quick diagnostic." Harrvok ordered the Salarian after giving the amphibian a quick glance. The Turian battlefield medic was running the proper program on his omni-tool, activating Chroso's hardsuit internal sensors to do a more thorough checkup.

"G-good, cause the only thing I feel is madness." the amphibian spat, certain he had just about seen enough for twenty Salarian lifetimes.

"Your fine, the root couldn't penetrate your armor." Harrvok announced with a weak smile.

"Well that's just spectacular news!" Chroso grumped sarcastically. Lucas was still investigating the root and was now studiously looking over Chroso's armor.

"It looks like the root grew tendrils that were searching for a weak point in your armor. Good thing we got that off you." Lucas observed, glancing at the snaking small branches still clinging to the edges of the Salarian's armor.

"Wonderful. Look, can I please just go home? So far I have done nothing to help you boys and frankly, if you want to get yourselves killed, I still want to live out the remainder of my estimated nine years. Preferably not ending as plant food. Please, let me turn back and go home." Chroso pleaded. Lucas was starting to feel sorry for him, especially with the heartfelt plea.

"All right, Chroso, I'll make you a deal..." Lucas started.

"Fine."

"Give us thirty more minutes. If we don't find anything, I'll send Harrvok back with you and I'll continue on by myself."

"You'll continue by yourself?" Harrvok asked skeptically, clearly not liking the idea.

"Sure. I'm used to working by myself in bad situations where I'm badly outnumbered." Lucas shrugged.

"Well here's my proposal. I agree with the thirty minutes, but we're going to have to modify the 'by yourself' part." Harrvok grumbled. Turian doctrine dictated that you never, never go in alone. You always went in with as many numbers as possible. Total knock out or nothing at all.

"Well we can't just sent Chroso back by himself. What if there are more hellhounds out there?" Lucas retorted.

"Guys, guys, as much as I'd like to go home, this is just wasting those thirty-"

"AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!"

A shrill, gut wrenching scream echoed through the cave system and pierced the noisy argument. Furthermore, all three realized it did not belong to any of the hellhounds. Besides feeling their stomachs leap into their throats, the hairs on their neck stood up. They all looked at each other.

"Eulias or Siera." Lucas said.

"Right." Harrvok nodded. With that, the two soldiers tore blindly on into the caves as fast as their feet could carry them, Chroso lingering behind them, realizing that it had only been twenty seconds into his thirty minutes.

--

"Shanata!" Julland hollered. It had happened too quickly. Shanata was fighting back, her assault rifle actually claiming two of the mercenaries. The intrepid marine was just beginning to get back behind cover after claiming her second kill when they all heard a gut wrenching crunch. It was the sound of armor breaking and flesh exploding inside it.

Shanata groaned, her assault rifle falling from her hands as she clutched a gaping wound on her midriff just below her lungs. Her eyes clenched shut in brain boiling pain, a scream too loud too ignore, so urgent that all the centuries of her military training could not override it.

"Filara, get her out of there!" Julland shouted since she was closer.

"Right!" Filara replied, rushing to help her downed comrade.

"I got you sister, just one-"

Somewhere in her mind, the Asari registered a grenade landing just a few feet in front of her. The explosion did the rest.

Dalora heard a scream behind her. Looking through the protective biotic barrier, she saw Filara lying on her back, her hands clutching her face while the front of her armor was a Picasso of scorch marks, shattered plating and bleeding wounds. She heard footsteps approaching. The mercenaries were moving in.

"Die!" Dalora screeched as two mercenaries rushed right in front of her to get to the Asari marines. Her shotgun roared, belching element zero hell. The one who took the brunt of it was blasted into eternity. The other was momentarily staggered. Dalora's pummeling shotgun took care of that.

Julland rushed up to his two fallen marines, first dragging a sadly gasping Shanata behind cover before doing the same for a whimpering Filara. Time slowed down just before he got into cover. Everything was going in slow motion. Blood was slowly spreading on the ground under Shanata. Filara was writhing in agony, too preoccupied with her misery to be of any help. Up front, in a cloud of flying ammo rounds, a wild eyed Dalora was blasting rushing mercenaries, three already dead at her feet. Her shotgun would overheat soon, she was resorting to beating them with her weapon. Her barrier could not last forever.

When the last piece on the board finds himself surrounded, how does he chose to die?


	16. Chapter 16

Death. She had seen it numerous times before. Because of medical technology, soldiers on the battlefield usually died in an instant because of the application of medigel to what would have been debilitating wounds. However, there were those occasions where a soldier ran out of the precious fluid and could only wait out an agonizing eternity until either a field medic was able to patch them up or the angel of death became their final guest.

And now, because the medical interfaces in their armor were fried, there was no way for her to apply medigel to her wound. Shanata was slowly bleeding to death and this could have easily been avoided if only the simple electronics in her suit weren't dead.

The Asari was starting to feel its effects. Her fingers were numb and she felt her arms growing cold. She could hear the life giving thump of her heart pound in her head as it became desperately confused as to why it was having less and less blood to work with.

She saw Filara still crying in pain. Grenade shrapnel is a brutal way to go. The poor Asari wasn't spared with a quick, lethal cut. In seemed that she too was slowly dying because of the not immediately fatal wounds.

In her quickly swimming vision, she saw her commander stare into the firefight, his assault rifle streaming anger into the air. Her sight flickered for a moment. The noise was just quickly melding into a fading requiem. She was almost certain she could hear her mother's lullaby. How many years ago had that been? She felt a tinge of sadness. Here she was, a matron and she had did not have a child of her own. She had always been too busy fighting some conflict or another. The battlefield had become her offspring and now it would see that she would find her eternal rest.

Shanata did what she could to grind her teeth. She told herself she wasn't going to give up just yet. She did not know how much good her resolve would be in the face of her lifeblood spilling out under her but she was still going to try.

Death was patiently waiting close by. Today was going to be a mass appointment and most of the party members would be coming from this particular area within a few moments. What was the rush? He had the time, he had been doing this since time immemorial and it didn't look like he would be retiring anytime soon.

--

Dalora could not be too sure on what exactly to do. Several bodies were lying at her feet, she could feel her biotic barrier beginning to wane and there were still too many hostiles in the room. The man who she gathered was the leader of the group was still confidently giving out orders behind a counter in the center. He brandished a scoped pistol but otherwise did nothing with it. His weapon was his mercenaries and he knew what he was doing.

She was a former mercenary herself. She knew they were ruthless. They did everything they could to make a quick and brutal kill, anything to ensure that they themselves would walk out of a fight alive. Dalora knew she was running out of tricks she could pull and they were on their last leg. The two Asari were down, possibly mortally wounded. Julland had pulled them behind cover and was now making sure no one got any closer but still the pirates kept coming. They had no shields, they could not heal themselves from the disabled electronics in their armor and now they were hopelessly outnumbered.

While Dalora doggedly fought on, her shotgun screaming in sync with the hostile blue of her biotic powers, a quiet part of her mind silently apologized to Lucas. It was the greatest sadness she ever felt. All this time she was worrying about him and now she had gotten herself into trouble.

--

There had to be better ways to conduct a search and rescue mission in a cave. Especially one that has a lot of hostile creatures in the ground. Something told Lucas that despite hearing a very human and very agonized scream in the cave, it was folly to go blindly running after it. Granted, he doubted there were any traps to worry about, the ones he grew an instinct to be careful of in infiltration situation, but who knew what these animals were capable of. Besides, if the animals didn't get them, the plants certainly seemed to be willing to. He also felt naked because he couldn't use his sniper rifle here in the closed in areas of the caverns.

Harrvok tried to keep his mind focused. It was one thing to be dedicated to the mission and keeping your wits about you. You almost had to will the mission into a success. Of course, that could just apply to him personally, but he had a feeling that things were about to hit a climax. Or the crap was about to hit the fan. Either one. He pondered whether to go with the assault rifle or shotgun. He also wondered just what kind of nightmare would await them. You just did not hear screams like that on a regular basis. He had heard the cries of the wounded and the dying before but this one was different altogether. He decided it was the scream of the terrified and tormented.

Chroso from his earliest days believed in the traditional Salarian understanding of a cycle of life, death and re-birth. It was for this reason that he did not stock up too much on the mostly human understanding of Hell. However, being dragged through these caves, he was starting to reconsider it.

Eventually the initial urgency of the scream died off and gave way to the overwhelming fact that confronted all three of the men. Not only had they not found the source of the scream and only heavens knew if they got any closer to it, they were now deep within the caves and possibly very lost.

"We may have a slight problem..." Lucas murmured as slowed down to a halt, his pistol held firmly with both hands.

"I agree, Lieutenant." Harrvok answered, reading the soldier's thoughts.

"And now there's no way I'm getting out of here in thirty minutes. Perhaps this is all the more reason we should turn back now." Chroso mumbled.

"We can't now, not while we're this close." Lucas replied.

"We don't know that for sure." Chroso retorted. Granted, a part of him truly sympathized with the human ranger. Unfortunately, the rest of him wanted to get out. In all honesty, this was probably what happened to the last away team. They must have went in, got lost and then became hellhound snacks.

"Oh, you are close, more than you really should want to be."

All three of them jumped at the voice, their weapons drawn in the proper direction.

"Who is there?" Harrvok demanded over his assault rifle.

"Not so loud...it's just me..." a figure emerged from the inky shadows and walked into the illumination of their armors' search lights. Chroso spoke first.

"Haha, we found them. That's Eulias. I remember you pesky agents from anywhere." the older Salarian grinned.

"You gave us quite the scare there, Eulias." Lucas chided.

"Are you all right? Are you wounded in any way?" Harrvok asked urgently.

"I'm not wounded, but I'm not all right." Eulias answered horsely, just above a whisper.

"Its okay, we'll get you out of here and in a safe place quick-"

"No, that's not going to make me all right!" Eulias suddenly exploded, cutting off Lucas.

"I've been trapped here for three days with scarcely anything to eat but bits from those carnivorous roots which I'm sure you've already seen. I've been here in the dark with those, those things hunting me. And the worse part- the worse part..." Eulias started to stumble in his speech.

"Take your time, calm down." Lucas stated, hoping to quiet the traumatized Salarian.

"I lost her! She went down, there was nothing I could do! They got her!" Eulias blurted out. The others were immediately saddened to hear of Siera's untimely fate.

"It wasn't your fault, Eulias. I'm sure you did everything you could." Lucas soothed.

"No, I didn't do everything I could, I'm just too much of a coward. I've been stuck here, in fear, keeping myself alive and for three days I had to listen to her screaming!" Eulias hollered. Harrvok, Chroso and Lucas stared dumbfounded with shock eyes.

"Wait...you mean...all this time, she's been screaming like that..._for three days?_" Lucas asked.

--

Dorian McDowell watched the closing moves of a deadly chess game. Though his team had sustained multiple casualties, very costly considering the number of enemies they had, the noose was finally closing. Two of the enemy soldiers were either dead or very close to it. A final biotic was desperately holding her own and should go down any minute. She couldn't last forever. He scratched his chin with the fleeting curiosity on how she could continue without the use of her amp. Perhaps she was a natural biotic. Extremely rare, but he had heard rumors about them.

Then there was the Turian who he assumed was the commander of the operation. Yes, McDowell could spot a fellow tactician, even on the battlefield. The Turian did show gruff and he did seem to know what he was doing but he had bitten off more than he could chew. Yes, McDowell had simply out maneuvered him like he had done on so many others. He could see that the Turian had reserved himself to go down fighting but he wouldn't go down easily. He watched as the enemy mowed yet another technician down with assault rifle fire. Pity such a stubborn warrior would have to go down.

It was at that moment that the mercenary leader noticed something on a forgotten radar monitor. Approaching rapidly was a large contact, perhaps the size of a frigate class ship. McDowell's eyes narrowed. Was this reinforcements? Would someone breathe new life into this fight?

--

Since Dr. Jima had to leave unexpectedly another doctor had taken Pelona's lumbar puncture. That officially ended all the testing of the Citadel medical personnel. Now, all they could do was wait. Yes, a few probably were running test on the recently isolated pathogen. Prions were exceedingly difficult to work with. Like most prions, this particular one could not simply be washed off the instruments once they were done poking it. The protein molecules would still adhere to the surfaces and were rather hardy particles. The only way to neutralize them would be subject the large flat surfaces to highly caustic chemicals while the smaller tools would have to spend a dip in an autoclave, essentially an over-sized pressure cooker. If not caustic chemical could be found to destroy the prion, then those objects that couldn't fit in an autoclave would simply have to be incinerated. Extreme heat seemed to be the only surefire antidote to the problem.

Pelona wondered what her fellow researchers were feeling, at least the ones trying to run tests on the prion. For all they knew, the were poking and prodding the very mis-folded protein that could very well be currently gnawing and blowing up cells in their brains. It was hard to learn not to hate these things. After all, it wasn't as if these particles were hurtinghem out of maliciousness or hate. It was just the product of either something going wrong in biology of things or simply nature. A harmful bacteria that causes a sickness doesn't hate the organism it is in anymore than a civilization that wildly exploits the resources of a planet it is on. Both very much love the environment their living in. It's just a matter of that both are getting out of control in their behavior and at least in the bacteria's case, the victim organism is feeling most of the pain.

A prion was completely different. For all practical purposes, it wasn't really alive. It was like a rock on a runway. It has no real intent of destruction just sitting there on the runway. The problem occurs when a large aircraft going on high speed runs over it which causes it to fly up, pierce the hull of the aircraft and then cause highly destructive damage.

That was another reason why prions could be so scary. Viruses or bacteria usually caused symptoms within days, weeks or perhaps months of initial transmission. Yes, there were exceptions, but prions almost always took a very long time to show themselves. In fact, when they do start to trigger symptoms, they're usually mistaken for something else, some old age or other neural destroying disease. The people of the village were probably infected when they first started eating the plants here. According to records, that means they were first infected and lived off a steady diet of prion fortified vegetables for six years. Six years before anything started to show up.

And now they were all dead and there wasn't a single bloody thing to do for the dying, the living who would be dead in a couple of years by a malformed protein that dragged out the symptoms of the victim for another couple years before the coup de grace finally popped the poor creature's brain.

Pelona nearly let out her frustrations verbally on the stoically immovable corpses in the morgue. They had finally given up their secrets. Unfortunately, the Asari pathologist realized that just as it was too late for them, it would still be too late for a great many of her colleagues. How many more would have to die because of this great accident that could have not so easily been avoided? How many? The Asari balled her fists and whimpered in petrified anger. Why did Harrvok have to be out there and why did her darn emotions want to be so attached to him?

Those that are eternally sleeping are bad comfort for they are completely at peace themselves.

--

"After I thought she was dead, I mean, they caught us off guard and overran her. She did her best to fire up her biotics but she was overpowered and the last I saw was her getting mauled and thrown down by a gang of them. I was able to back away. I hate to say it but them being preoccupied with her was what allowed me to get away." Eulias admitted. There was little to be said. As much as it seemed wrong, situations like that allowed other members of a team to get away and or survive the ordeal. No one wanted to see that come at the expense of a friend or comrade but the sad fact was that it happens.

But now the problem was that the downed friend and comrade was in fact still very much alive and sounded very much in torment. Of course, she wasn't the only one tormented by the looks of things.

"I couldn't just leave...but I couldn't get to her either. There's just too many of them to take on by myself and I don't have any of the combat multiplying effects that her biotics have." Eulias whimpered.

"No one's judging you, Eulias. You did what you could and now we have the means to get her out. Do you know how to get to her from here?" Lucas asked, trying to keep them all focused on a new objective. The torn Salarian thought for a moment.

"Yes...yes, I think I might know. I at least know the general direction from here." Eulias murmured.

"Good, better than nothing. Which way?" Lucas demanded.

"This way, the way you guys were going." Eulias replied. Lucas nodded before giving orders.

"All right, Harrvok, radio back and tell them the situation. Eulias, you take the rear. Chroso, I'm sorry but you're going to have to see the end of this with us. I'll take point. Follow my lead." the commando relayed. They all had little choice but to follow.

"Command base, this is away team two. We have located Eulias, I repeat, we have located Eulias. Siera is elsewhere. We are continuing the rescue mission, over." Harrvok informed over his radio. There was a moment of silence before the radio came back to life.

"This one reads you, away team two. Carry on. Over." Dolphos replied.

Lucas led them further in the darkness. The special forces ranger suddenly realized for the first time that he had been in command. Normally, he did not appreciate having lives in his hands like that. He had always worked alone but he trusted Harrvok could take care of himself and between the both of them, they could watch the two Salarians. However, Lucas was keeping the mentality that he was still doing this like he would have done any solo missions, except this time it came with a few liabilities.

Each step further in the cave was made with anxious hearts, adrenaline strangled throats and bated breath. However, they all started to notice an unexpected but subtle change in their surroundings as they made their way further into the cave. First, their feet no longer landed on the uneven and grainy cavern floor. Instead, it had become more solid, flat and a bit even. Eventually, they realized that they were walking on a brick network as the cave sides gave way to stone walls.

"Are we inside a ruin?" Harrvok asked cautiously.

"It would make sense. Remember the stray bricks we saw jutting out awhile back? This is probably all one large network." Chroso suggested.

"Is it just me or are you noticing it becoming more bright in here?" Lucas asked while they were discussing questions.

"What do you mean? There's nothing but blackness in here." Eulias muttered bitterly.

"I'm serious, I'm almost certain there may be another light source in here." Lucas defended.

As they made their way even deeper, Lucas' suspicions were confirmed. They started to notice the dancing and flickering light that is cast by a fire. The problem was where exactly was it coming from and where. They could only continue their journey.

"This is strange. I'm certain there's something more to this. It isn't all adding up." Harrvok grumbled, his assault rife never once lowered.

"We'll get the answers when we can. Right now we have to get Siera out of here." Lucas replied.

"If she's still alive." Eulias mumbled darkly. No one mentioned on how quiet it had been for the past few minutes and no one wanted to ask Eulias how long the intervals of silence normally were.

It was while they were slowly making their way to what they hoped would be the location of the Asari, Chroso noticed something on the walls. He could scarcely believe his eyes but they appeared to be writings, pictures. As hard as it was to believe, there were coherent if simple hieroglyphs etched into the walls. He knew he couldn't stop and examine them lest he fall behind. He also knew he couldn't interrupt the soldiers leading them so he tried to make out what little he could as they plodded quickly along. The Salarian archaeologist started to notice something that disturbed him.

At first he thought they were just a casual passing mention of them in the hieroglyphs but he could pick out the clear and obvious image of the hellhounds that lived in these caves. At first he thought that the original artists and stone workers that carved these had a semi-unhealthy obsession with these creatures, whatever they might have called them. It wasn't until later when the hellhounds became the central figures in the images that it hit him.

The hellhounds, whatever they were really called, _were_ the ones that inscribed these hieroglyphs. The carvings not only depicted a lot of them, it depicted them upright, some of them carrying out everyday tasks or managing administrative roles. He did not want to believe it but something within hit gut told him that instead of this civilization growing up to achieve space flight, it devolved into a subterranean den of animals.


	17. Chapter 17

Every now and then, young recruits may have high ideals of glorified victory. They may fantasize about storming into dangerous disaster areas to deliver the coup de grace in a high stakes fight. They may think on images filled with glory of heart pounding rescue missions, clutching a comrade and pulling them from the fiery jaws of death and destruction.

Harrvok and Lucas wondered how many might have considered stumbling through dark and muddy caverns filled with carnivorous animals _and_ plants.

Just when the group was about to lose hope again they noticed that the cavern walls seem to be widening. The light that had always been in front of them was starting to grow brighter. Lucas, always taking point, let his sharp eyed optical implants zoom in ahead. He wasn't sure to believe what they were telling him.

"Guys...I think we got buildings up ahead." Lucas sputtered.

"Wait- what!?" Chroso demanded in shock.

"I kid you not, I think there are buildings up ahead in the caves. They look like triangular step pyramids or something, at least from what I can see." the special forces ranger

"More of this former civilization stuff?" Harrvok asked, sounding more and more agitated.

"You have a better explanation?" Chroso retorted.

"Hrmph, I'm feeling less and less sure about this." Harrvok grumbled.

"'Sure?' That's lightyears better than what I'm feeling, Turian. Can you imagine what Eulias here feels like?" Chroso shot.

"Enough. Come on people, focus. The sooner we locate Siera, the sooner we can get the heck out of dodge." Lucas scolded.

Another wail hit their ears.

--

Shanata thought she was light headed moments ago. Her skull practically felt weightless now and the pain had dulled a long time back. She no longer felt herself. Life and its details had become blurry or faded altogether. Her commander was a distant blur, the brilliance of the element zero exhaust nothing more than comforting lights. The Asari was finding peace, she was slowly embracing eternity.

Shanata's cries, something that had troubled her this whole time, was being drowned out by her old mother's lullaby. Such a comforting tune, she had long since forgotten how it went only to remember it now. She was suddenly starting to envy all of her old comrades who had gone this way long ago, the ones that went quickly, dead in an instant. They didn't have to wait for this, the moment the skeletal angel named death politely greets you with his confident grin. Such a charmer he was.

And suddenly, the lights that had been so soothing were gone. They were abruptly replaced by shades of black and red. Besides the lullaby, the only other sound she had been listening to was the slowly quieting whisper of her fading breaths. Now, she heard them becoming more desperate. The lullaby shattered into a thousand noises, the soothing notes were drowned out in a flood of increasing decibels. Her mind, the last of her that was holding out and slowly becoming hypnotized felt as if it got slapped in the face. Something had gone wrong. Was the afterlife not as peaceful as they had told her it would be?

The shades of black and red became more defined. Black became darker, steel gray while red lost its anger. The angel of death lost his features. Out of the devastated and confused cacophony words started to form. She didn't know what to do with them.

And things suddenly became terribly right. The images all became sharp, perhaps not the best, but no longer a blur. Shanata saw that she had mistaken the angels. Apparently, the angel of life wears a head visor and Colossus armor.

--

Julland never saw it coming. He realized that he should of, but the Turian was still taken by surprise. One moment he was expecting impending defeat followed closely by the relief and sting of death. He and Dalora would surely get overwhelmed and then suddenly it was as if the walls behind them sprouted guns and started firing back.

The familiar faces of the _Shiloh's_ marines were suddenly all around him, their assault rifles blaring. The mercenaries, confident until now, suddenly started taking cover or falling back altogether. Dalora, having been in a desperate struggle all along, fell back behind cover and slowly slid down until she sat on the floor. She rested her head in her hands as she let the Asari marines rush forward to cover her.

From his vantage point, Julland could do nothing but watch. He could see Dr. Jima tending to both Filara and Shanata while another Asari marine, presumably versed in medicine, gave her aide. It was suddenly all falling into place. The lone king and pawn on the chessboard were suddenly granted all their companions back.

Julland's serenity was immediately crashed when he saw rounds deflecting off of Jima's kinetic barriers. He turned to quickly spot who was firing the shots. The Turian couldn't have known it at the time but the combatant he spotted was named Dorian McDowell. All what Julland did know was that upon spotting the man, his vision immediately turned red.

--

The cave walls slithered up to the building ruins until finally they were scrambling through the crumbling walls and decayed cobblestone streets. All of them had varying degrees of fear and desperation in their eyes. How long would this torture last? How long could that agonized Asari hold on? All of them were dying but only one was mortally so.

"Come on, where the bloody heck is she?" Lucas growled, still clawing desperately to hold onto his cool and concentration.

"We have to be getting close, Lieutenant." Harrvok muttered. Eulias only whimpered.

By now they were following their guts, moths drawn to a beacon of agony. Lucas' gut also told him to forgo the pistol and pull out his rifle. He could use his knife if anything got too close. Eulias and Chroso wondered why their legs continued to take them on the path of the other two soldiers. Every other fiber in their being told them to run the other way. Harrvok could only feel numb, the drive to get the mission accomplish, but a very numb, foreboding feeling freezing in his stomach.

And then they heard whimpers. Feminine ones.

"Hear that? We're getting close." Harrvok announced.

"There's something wrong..." Lucas muttered, realizing where Siera's voice was coming from. They had now reached the foot of the temple and gathered that their fallen comrade was at the very top of the temple.

"Hurry, medic. I don't think we'll have a lot of time." Lucas urged, leading them up the stairs. He barely heard Eulias' fears behind him.

"Where are they? Where did all those animals go? They have to be around here..."

"Just keep your eyes peeled and shoot any that you find." Harrvok barked. They were midway up the temple and by now, they could hear the constant whimpers and moans of Siera. Harrvok wasn't sure anything could cause that much pain. He had not heard the likes of them on the battlefield. They were scarcely at the top when they saw Lucas cast himself onto the platform. They only heard his observation and it already made their hearts sink.

"...Oh my God..."

--

Dorian McDowell, victor of numerous battles, information cruncher and tactical genius, undefeated even in the face of long odds, knew that a single mistake could cost a whole battle. A single lost battle could cost a commander his life. That was why he had never made a mistake before. Even when he had taken a risk it was a very calculated risk that he made sure still weighed in his favor. Now with his scoped pistol raised and firing, he understood that he had made a mistake. He couldn't quite place it but his mind was racing to figure it out. He should have known that a Council force, possibly a Spectre, could send in backup if the ground team failed.

What he would never have figured out was that his gravest mistake was firing on the most loved and vulnerable member of the _Shiloh_ crew, the Spectre herself.

--

Julland was beyond livid. He felt the fires of hell burn in his chest and send raging flames screaming in his mind. It was one thing to endanger combatants but he would never tolerate the firing upon civilians. Spectre Jima was far from a civilian but then again, he never stopped seeing her as one. She barely had any combat skills. All she knew was to hurl herself at a downed soldier out in the open and drag them someplace safer to operate. That was hardly qualified for any kind of combat.

However, perhaps it was also being dragged, nearly losing his life and also figuring out that the mercenary that was responsible for all of the day's trouble was right there before him. Because of this man he was defending some kind of deadly disease. It was because of this man that he quite nearly lost two marines under his command if he had not already. It was because of this man that he nearly died today. Something devastating had been unleashed in the Turian commander and whatever it was, it was dangerous to get in front of because it simply could not be stopped.

The numerous obstacles and desk terminals did not prove to be a barrier to the warrior as he simply charged over them. The gunfire raging through the air did not stop him or abate his speed. His burnt out shields did not deter him. Even Dorian McDowell's angry rounds did not stop Julland as he stormed straight towards the man. The rounds slamming against heavy armor and in some cases drawing blood would not stop Julland.

The only thing that did finally stop him was Dorian McDowell's broken body lying on the floor, battered and bloodied from repeated strikes from a heavy assault rifle.

When the red mist finally faded, Julland found himself standing over a vaguely familiar body. The remaining mercenaries were either surrendering or dying. There was no retreating at this point. The Asari marines were doing a proficient job in rounding them up and seeing to those who had laid down their arms. Some were already being led away as prisoners. Julland barely registered them as he continued to stare at the broken hull of the one who had caused him and his crew so much misery. He felt a gentle grasp on his arm that begged for his attention.

"Are you all right, Julland? You're wounded." It was Jima. The Quarian was already doing a mental assessment on the Turian commander. His exterior was a surgical nightmare. Shattered armor fragments, blood splatters everywhere, even on his rifle. Some was probably his while some wasn't. She wasn't sure how they were going to cleanly get him out of that armor.

"I-I think for the first time today things are finally going all right." Julland panted.

"All right. Lets get you back on the _Shiloh_ and get you patched up." Jima answered, leading him in the right direction.

"What about Shanata and Filara? Are they all right?" Julland asked. Jima did not answer.


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's Note: I apologize for the lengthy delays in these updates. I will try to make up for that by putting up two updates today or at least this weekend. _

* * *

When sentient beings of different species that are galaxies apart both literally, culturally and technologically, it can result in either if not both of them judging the other as sub-human. War and conflict have a tendency to expedite these feelings further.

Lucas Von Seraph knew of when the European civilization landed in the Americas many hundred years ago. The invading Europeans, Spaniards, met upon the native Aztecs who practiced ritual sacrifice. It is quite possible that the Spaniards instead saw it as some sort of pagan practice if not outright torture. They in a "civilized" action then in return destroyed a whole civilization.

Lucas wondered if he had stepped right into the same situation because nothing, not even all the years he had served as a special forces ranger and all the war he had seen could have prepared him for this sight. Siera's screams and laments? They would forever be burned in their memory along with the image.

--

Dalora could tell that Jima was taking command of the situation despite the fact that Julland was more accustomed to it. She almost expected the Turian commander to turn down any medical treatment, at least not in the moment but still Julland followed Jima's directives without protest. Dalora could only guess that he was either exercising discipline or was just too tired to do otherwise.

The human woman could only sit on one of the nearby crates to take a breather even if she didn't want to stray too far from Julland and Jima. She only just realized that of all the people that had gone off on this mission, she was the only one who had not been wounded. Yes, some parts of her armor were scratched and dented from numerous close calls but no blood had been drawn. She did not know whether she would feel some sort of guilt from this but she decided now would not be the time to worry about that. She was just too exhausted from the ordeal.

"I have ordered the marines to clean up the situation and try to get any last minute data. It is your job now to rest and let me take care of those bullets in you." Jima informed Julland who was still sitting obediently on the examining table.

"Thank you. That was a good decision." Julland muttered.

"You would have done the same and I believe I only got it from you." Jima answered, leaning in to get a closer look at the bloodied holes that pained the Turian.

"You still haven't answered my question about Shanata and Filara. What happened to them? Are they going to make it?" Julland inquired, this time with more assertion. The Quarian hesitated to answer despite continuing unchecked with her work.

"Let me get you out of this armor and take care of your wounds first. Then I will show you how Shanta and Filara are doing." Jima replied.

"Why can't you just tell me now?" Julland demanded.

"I will tell you that they're not dead, Julland. Beyond that, you should probably see for yourself." Jima answered.

--

Neither Lucas nor Harrvok had a clue on how to approach the situation. The Salarians were beyond any chance of trying to free her from her nightmarish bonds. Harrvok's medical mind was analyzing the situation with a petrified eye. He decided that this was going to be an operation requiring multiple surgeries if this was ever going to be fixed.

Sobbing and whimpering on a raised stone table was the fragile form of Siera. The Asari was laid outstretched on what struck their minds as a sacrificial table. However, instead of being put to a blade or razor, she was slowly being killed by the very things that bound her to the table. The roots of the carnivorous plants had grown around her. Both of her arms were tied down, open wounds still bled where the plant's tendrils had grown into her body. One small branch had wrapped around her head, appearing to cut off the blood supply of the flesh around it, killing them and turning the area into an unhealthy black, rotted area. Most disheartening was the large vein that had grown over and around her midsection. That did not include the numerous bites and gashes that had been inflicted on her from the creatures when they had obviously dragged her here.

Ritual sacrifice? Torture? Lucas forced those nagging questions out of his mind as he forced himself to say something of comfort to Siera.

"S-Siera? We're here to get you out of here. You'll be safe in a little while, just hang on for a couple minutes." Lucas choked, still searching for a way to even get started on her extraction. The Asari only continued to sob quietly as she glanced at each of them.

"Harrvok, how the heck are we going to get her out of here?" Lucas hissed at the medic.

"I have no clue, Lieutenant. I don't know if we cut the limbs if it'll cause some kind of reaction. By cutting the roots we might kill her." the Turian whispered.

"If we leave her here she'll die." Lucas growled. Harrvok rolled his eyes.

"With all due respect, that's obvious, Lieutenant. What I'm trying to say is that I don't have the proper equipment to scan her body and make a conclusive decision." Harrvok snapped.

"I don't think we have time to get back and get the equipment to her. We don't know how many more of those hellhounds are in here."

"Hey, guys-"

"Chroso, not now!" Harrvok interrupted the Salarian.

"If you were open to the idea I would have suggested it against even my liking. Look, if I start cutting away at those roots, it might kill her or cause irreparable damage. Do you understand what's at stake here, Lieutenant?" Harrvok demanded.

"Understood, on me the blame falls. Just get her off of that." Lucas charged.

"Very well." Harrvok answered, taking out a scalpel and casting one last apprehensive glance at the Asari.

"Guys, as I was trying to say, I can see the eyes of those hounds watching us down the tunnels. You'd better get ready." Chroso warned.

"Crap." Lucas grumbled.

"I will hurry as fast as I can." Harrvok stated.

--

He should have been watching for the illuminated eyes of the creatures down the tunnels but instead Eulias could do nothing but tremble at the broken form of his friend by the stone. Guilt was flowing thicker than the blood in his veins. Why had he abandoned her? It wasn't as if he wanted it to happen. He would have tried to help if only...if only he had not been so frightened, so alone. Instead, he was left with nothing but the remorse of letting her get captured and listening to her screams of agony for three days. They had both been tortured by the ordeal but clearly Siera had suffered the worse of it. If her body would not survive it he wondered if his own mind would.

"E-Eulias...why, why did you leave me?" Siera whimpered. Eulias felt a ton of cold bricks hit him in the stomach.

"I, I didn't meant to, Siera!"

"I was so alone...why didn't you come? I'm in so much pain..." the Asari's voice wasn't her own after being strained for three days.

"I'm sorry, Siera! Don't you get it!?" now the Salarian was getting hysterical, belting off several curses in his mother tongue.

"Guys, enough! Let Harrvok concentrate. Eulias, keep your eyes on the tunnels!" Lucas snapped, watching down the scope of his Dante rifle. Down in the darkness of the caves they could see the eyes of those demons watching them and they knew it was only a matter of time before they moved. What were they waiting for?

"I think they're moving, Lucas." Chroso announced, trying to keep his hold on his pistol steady. Lucas decided to take a literal shot in the dark.

"Lets see if this will slow them down..."

He lined up the crosshairs right between the glowing eyes of the creatures, one that seemed in the center of the others. He wondered why they were waiting just one thought's breath before he squeezed the trigger.

The high explosive round shot through the caverns and found its mark. The instant it struck flesh it detonated, filling the tunnel walls with fire and chaos. Smoke started to billow from within the cave. Both the special forces ranger and the archaeologist strained their eyes to gaze into the darkness.

"I don't see anything." Chroso stated.

"Don't let your guard down. I can imagine that only pissed them off." Lucas stated. He looked behind him to see that Eulias was completely incapacitated, simply hunched over with his blank eyes staring into space. He decided the Salarian was beyond help at the moment.

"I'm almost done." Harrvok informed, still working his razor sharp scalpel along the tendrils of the plant. He noticed that Siera had seemingly passed out halfway through his operation. He hoped that the tears that still flowed from her eyes was an indicator she still had a pulse. It was the only thing that was keeping him from giving up.

--

Arm in a sling with several more thick bandages covering various odd parts of his body that made some areas under his uniform feel bulky. Julland always wondered when he would get used to sporting this inevitable post-battle garb made to patch up wounds. After over a decade of dedicated military service, broken bones, nicked arteries, and miles and miles of bandages, he still was waiting for that day to come. He also realized as he hobbled along behind Jima that he was never going to get used to checking in on wounded soldiers.

"I've had them transferred from the _Shiloh_ to the doctors' facility. They have more specialized equipment and personnel over there." the Quarian explained. Julland felt a fleeting surprise on how quickly Jima had gotten out of her light Colossus model armor and into her casual blue and white environmental suit and lab coat. That was quickly replaced by dread of what he was going to find.

"Steady, Julland. You know she said that they were still alive. It can't be that bad." Julland whispered to himself. Another part of his mind disagreed but he decided to ignore it for now. Abruptly, he realized he was standing in front of a medical bed.

"Shanata arguably fared better. The bullet was a shredder round so it caused massive internal damage to her system as well as severe blood loss. She's stabilized now but remains in critical condition. So long as there are no complications, I'm sure she'll pull through." Jima reported, placing a comforting paw on the unconscious Asari's head. Julland was devastated and he felt it in his stomach. Yes, soldier's had died under his command before. He was a commander. He had casualties worth several companies under his watch. However, now that he worked side by side with his soldiers now...

"She's strong, so I'm sure she'll make it. I don't think a lesser person would have held out as long as she did. It's Filara that I'm worried about." Jima said. Julland unwillingly left Shanata's still form and followed numbly behind.

The two stopped before a medical curtain that acted as a simple privacy divider. Julland was not sure what to expect as he stopped to patiently wait for what Jima had to say. It seemed like even the Quarian was also at a loss for words. Then, as if opening Pandora's Box, she simply pulled aside the curtain.

Filara's whole head was criss-crossed with bandages and gauze. Julland himself winced, imagining the pain of having wounds on such a sensitive place. Regardless, there was one bandaged that was more prominent than all the others. It was the one Julland was most drawn to. A single band strip of bandage wound many times covered the eyes of the Asari. Julland felt his jaw drop as if to ask a question.

"She's blind." Jima simply said as if to answer the cold, unspoken inquiry.

--

Eulias was trembling uncontrollably in rage, frustration, fear and helplessness. He had felt those emotions over the past three days but now they had hit a crescendo. The malevolent symphony of emotions was driving him to the verge of insanity and its conductor was the languishing body of Siera. A tap on his shoulder threw off the torturous psychological cacophony.

"I know there's no convincing you its not your fault so I'm going to tell you that there will be more chances to do penance for this later. You could start now by keeping an eye out and making sure she remains safe." Lucas told him firmly. Eulias nodded simply and readied his pistol. He forced himself not to lose control when Siera suddenly screamed.

"I got her free, all the roots are cut." Harrvok announced. He medic silently noted that there was a possible connection with Siera's return to consciousness and the severing of the plant but that was a mystery to be solved later. He took the moment to examine the broken Asari. This would be the only chance to patch any major wounds and stabilize her as much as possible before the inevitable and desperate escape.

Siera's eyes were rolling in her head for a moment before they steadied. Her breathing normalized slowly though she felt pain everywhere. It had been the ultimate nightmare and it was finally coming to a close. Her vision spotted the camouflaged helmet of Lucas Von Seraph making a quick scan for incoming enemies before looking squarely at her.

"I know you're sick but we're going to need all the help we can get. Harrvok will carry you out of here. Are you healthy enough to still use a weapon?" Lucas asked. Siera still fought for breath but nodded her head vigorously.

"Good. Use this if the time comes." She felt her hands grasp onto a pistol. Specifically, it was a specially camouflaged painted Razer model pistol, Lucas' own handgun.

This was the moment she had been wanting so badly for. It was what she had prayed for every agonizingly long minute of those three days of hell. Finally, it had been placed into her hands. She could not have been more grateful for the pistol.

Vengeance on her enemies was not what she wanted from it.

One can only spend so long in the dark of a living nightmare before the blackness starts to contaminate you. A tortured mind, when splintered from such long trauma, may only decide on one solution to the terror that starts to fill every pore of your body that it seems to consume you. To Siera, with the nightmare was finally coming to a close, she only wanted it to end as it had been, only in a softer shade of black. A burning inferno bullet brought on the literal physical manifestation of an already psychologically shattered mind.

The team of men descended into the darkness to free a captive from the demented chains of a twisted enemy. Having released her from her shackles, Siera went one step further and released herself from the chains of this mortality.

--

"Don't ask me how the blast of the grenade didn't kill her. Unfortunately, her good luck ran out after that. The force and the shrapnel gashed her face and completely destroyed her eyes." Jima explained softly. Julland was feeling an extremely heavy weight from all this.

"Well...can't you replace them? Lucas' eyes were recreated after they were destroyed." Julland suggested. Jima shook her head solemnly.

"That is an extremely rare procedure and it's not open to commercial or even Council use. Even the Alliance has put a halt to it because of a high rate of failure." Jima answered.

"So...she's blind. For good." the Turian mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Julland. If there were any options to rectify this I would have already started setting them up."

"Jima, don't apologize. If anything I should apologize to you. I'm sorry I let the mission go awry. I'm sorry I nearly lost two of your marines. I'm sorry that we're going to have to let one go..."

The Turian felt Jima's paw touch his shoulder. He thought it was odd that it was Jima who was the life giver among them. It was she who healed them when they were broken and beaten and yet because of her own flawed immunity her touch was reduced to a sterile, cold fabric.

"We'll talk about this later. Right now I have to see to the rest of the Council's medical team. They're results are starting to come in and I was chosen to analyze the results. I just want you to know that this isn't your fault either" the Spectre told him.

Jima'Riznah vas Shiloh knew it was her own fault.


	19. Chapter 19

The march after a hollow victory is sobering, the regret filled stupor after a sledgehammer hangover. The flight from out of the caves had been a blur and largely uneventful. No one spoke, each left in their own thoughts. Caught between two guilts of either leaving the body or simply carrying home a carcass, Harrvok chose the later. It was gruesome but the Turian could not go all that way and not find some means of closure for Siera's family. Her empty shell was slung over his shoulder as they trudged their way back.

Lucas did not feel any decisive emotions and currently was trying not to contemplate anything. Yes, he had claimed responsibility if Siera had died but he had not anticipated that she would kill herself. He felt a tinge of regret for giving her the pistol but only in that he was sorry it was the instrument she used to kill herself. If only he had known. Of course, not giving her the weapon probably would have only prolonged the inevitable anyway. Here was a familiar world to him, the fleeting, foggy world of mists that was the universe of "what ifs."

Eulias felt sorrow upon sorrow. Still he blamed himself for what happened and still he regretted she had not died outright. Now he also regretted that she died anyway. Siera had worked alongside him since the start of their careers for the Council. It was more than losing a co-worker, it was losing a close friend. In his mind he was a betrayer due to circumstances, a man as helpless to his sin as Judas was helpless to greed that brought him to betrayal. At the moment, hanging would probably be a relief.

Chroso was exhausted. He had been dragged into a responsibility that was not his and proved to be of little help. Perhaps he contributed more than he himself expected to, but it was still little help. Right now the sores, fatigue and hunger all demanded attention and he wanted nothing more than to return to the safety of his home and collapse. He could think about starting his new project after all of those immediate needs were met. Perhaps this adventure started out as an injustice but it turned out to bring an unexpected profit.

"Search and rescue team, you have gone silent for awhile. Are you still there? Please respond." Harrvok's radio messaged a concern voice to their ears. It was a baffling moment. In all the excitement and chaos, Harrvok had completely forgotten to radio their status back to base.

"Uh, yeah, this is Harrvok and the rest of the squad. We are returning to base." Harrvok muttered, not caring for standard protocols anymore.

"What were the results of your mission?" they all hesitated but eventually the Turian responded.

"We found one of the missing persons. The other...well...just prepare a body bag for our arrival." there was a momentary but telling pause on the other end of the radio.

"Copy that. We'll await for your arrival."

--

Jima's darkened visor reflected the readouts on the computer monitor before her. Right now there were opposing factions scrambling for control of attention in her mind. One demanded that she focus on the names and results that were on the readout before her. It was far from uplifting news. These were the first few results from the lumbar puncture test they had preformed. She had yet to find a single negative among the names. Inevitably, her compassion and sorrow for them would bleed out from her soul.

Alas, the other contender for her mind was stifling that with the appearance of a sudden, new phantom. This one was of guilt. It was having a tighter grip.

"I should have been the one leading. I am the Spectre, the one given responsibility over this mission. I shouldn't be sending out my second in command, Julland, just because he has better training in command and combat. If anything, I should be going out with him. No, instead I stayed here in safety. What became of that?"

"Because I stayed behind, because I wasn't there, Filara lost her eyesight. Perhaps if I were there things could have been different. Because I wasn't there, Shanata almost died. I'm suppose to be the Spectre and I shied from my responsibilities..."

The regretful Quarian let out a sigh and felt a newfound ambition rise up within her.

"Next time, it will be different. Next time, I will be stronger..."

And deep within her, a sad whisper told her that she knew herself that she wasn't that strong at all.

--

"Lieutenant..." Harrvok started. They were almost there. There were almost back at the base. The Turian remembered that a medical examination would be awaiting them. They would have to be tested for that prion found in the plants. Of course, everyone else at the base would have already been examined. It was only now that Harrvok's thoughts turned to someone else.

"What, Harrvok?" Lucas asked, idly kicking a pebble.

"I could use some advice on a relationship issue." Harrvok confessed. Lucas inwardly winced. Years as a former Catholic ministerial student had taught him a lot about the deep issues. He could talk about heaven, hell, angels, demons, God, the Devil, good and evil, life and death and even the best metaphors for the Trinity. Despite all that, heaven forbid they talk about relationships. At least God the Father was consistent enough to remain in an eternal Trinity. Human beings were so inconsistent that their taste buds changed every two years. What hope did that leave for any solid relationship advice?

"Say I've come down with a long term but terminal disease. It will kill me in a horrific way. I can have anywhere from several months to several years. Imagine that I love someone romantically and suppose they feel the same way for me. What should I do?" Harrvok asked. Lucas momentarily stepped out of his perspective to wonder just how bizarre the circumstances were that they could be talking about this while a dead body hung on Harrvok's shoulder. Life is certainly a mystery.

"Well, first I would say don't readily give up. Hope can be a medicine all its own. Just because the doctors say something is terminal, well, to use a human saying, it isn't over until the fat lady sings."

"I don't really understand what that means." Harrvok admitted.

"Basically, you're not dead until you stop breathing, so don't get ahead of yourself. Keep living, you never know what miracles can happen." Lucas clarified.

"I guess, but that doesn't address the relationship part." Harrvok replied.

"Right. Look, be honest with her. Or him. I assume it's a her." Lucas stumbled.

"If it weren't for the fact that we just met, I'd take offense to that. It's a 'her,' of course." Harrvok grumbled.

"Well first off, give me a break, we just met. Second of all, you never know these days." Lucas grumbled.

"Regardless, what else were you going to say?"

"Second, if you're certain she loves you, don't be afraid that she will reject you. True love is selfless and will not abandon the one it loves, especially in their time of greatest need, no matter the circumstance. The true test of love is not the height of affection it pours out. Any sap can do that. It is measured in the hardships it is willing to endure, even in the face of unreturned love." Lucas explained.

"Hmmm...thanks."

"Don't mention it."

The four of them were able to see the outlines of the base and grounded _Shiloh_ on the horizon. They were all about to breathe a sigh of relief when they were suddenly set upon by a group of faceless doctors, all of them in helmeted hazmat suits.

"Drop your belongings and strip of your armor. You are all under isolation until after we decontaminate you and run the tests." one of them explained over a radio mouth piece. The sigh they let out turned into one of annoyance.

"Just when I thought I could finally go home..." Chroso grumbled.

--

Pelona had heard the news. The search and rescue team had returned home. However, they had one body bag among them. Before she could get sent on another worry trip, she spotted Harrvok's outline among those being escorted by the hazmat crew. The Asari felt elated. He had returned home, at least for the moment they were safe.

The sudden relief sent a spasm of pain through her chest. She never thought she would be this relieved and excited all at once. Even better was the comfort knowing that neither of them would be infected. Of course, it was mandatory that he would have to go through the screening.

A faint worry came through her mind that perhaps he may have contracted something, including the prion, fighting through the caves. It was a stray thought but she brushed it away. If he was still here then it was more than likely his armor had not been breeched. He would be fine. He had to be.

She also spotted Dr. Jima walking up to join the hazmat team. The Quarian was idly resting a paw in one of her lab coat's pockets. Pelona could not confirm it but she wondered if there was something bothering the doctor and Spectre. No one could be too sure of Jima's mood since her facial features were practically rendered invisible from the visor. Everyone had to count on her body language and that was practically a learned art as well as an inexact science.

The Asari peered through her thin glass frames. Jima had apparently walked right up next to the human, Lucas she assumed, and seemed to be whispering to him about something important. She wondered what that was about.

--

It had been several mind numbing hours in isolation. Harrvok, Eulias, Chroso and Lucas were each placed in a separate room for any last minute monitoring and testing. Even if they were to escape the prion, there could be any other sickness or diseases they could have contracted. Instead, Lucas was given a small wireless headset so he could communicate with the _Shiloh's_ crew. After having a pleasant if brief exchange with Dalora, the lieutenant listened in on the final debriefing and the pieces they were able to put together.

Dolphos was able to conclusively deduce that the mercenary group was put out of commission. They had been led by a certain Dorian McDowell. This man was a mercenary king in his own right who specialized in obtaining and selling promising biological weapons. The man had to be constantly connected to a web of the latest information. It was how he was able to deduce prospects and head for them. The sudden wipe out of the colony of Uruk certainly caught his interest. Indeed, he could have gotten his hands on this prion.

As for Lucas and his team, because of blood splatters and their close contact, all of their equipment, from their weapons to their armor came up positive for having the prion on them. All of their equipment would have to take a special bath in an autoclave, essentially an oversized pressure cooker, to heat and warp the malicious protein out of commission. Council authorities had already promised that any equipment that did not work would be reimbursed. Lucas wanted to make sure that his armor and weapons would be returned right down to the proper shade of camouflage. Of course, now it was a matter of figuring out if they were infected with the protein but that would have to come in its own time.

"I know the concept in my head but I will never understand it. How can anyone go with developing a weapon based on directly attacking our organic systems." Jima commented.

"We've been doing it since time immemorial. Ever since the first one of our species figured out that hurling a rock at something else tends to hurt it, the arms race began. Biological weapons is just another pursuit of finding yet another option for the desperate general who needs to win another battle." Julland replied.

"I know. But it shouldn't be that way." Jima replied over the radio. Lucas felt the need to say something.

"There's a lot of things that shouldn't be the way they are. That's why we also have to fight to make them better if not completely right. It's easy to find a way to destroy something. It's harder to come up with solutions to make it better."

"I hope you're trying to imply that we're the type of people that try to make it better, Lucas." Jima said.

"I hope so myself." Lucas muttered whimsically. Why did he have to have a job that always confronted the big questions?

"Speaking of making this better, your isolation time has ended. I need you to take care of that errand that I asked you about, Lucas. Please, could you do that?" Jima asked.

"It will be done...once I get out of this medical smock."

--

Dalora insisted that she come with Lucas who did not mind having her along. Still, there was the unspoken understanding that he would have to do most if not all of the talking. However, Dalora also knew that this would probably be a little emotional for him. He had been in the same place himself.

"Ahem...uh, Filara. This is Lucas." the lieutenant hated introductions like this. He also knew that he was going to hate this job. Still, Jima had decided it would be best that he do it. For some reason all of the _Shiloh_ had the impression that he had a way with words. Frankly, he wondered why they would ever think that. Though they all spoke English, his native German is not exactly the most graceful language in the universe.

"Oh. Hi, Lucas." the Asari seemed confused if not a bit frightened. Her head swiveled around, groping to see anything. Lucas let out a sympathetic sigh. He knew what that was like.

"I hope you're feeling better. I'm glad you survived that fight back there." Lucas wondered just how truthful that was. Truth be told he barely knew her. Then again, of course he was happy she survived. No one liked it when someone kicked the bucket.

"I still feel a little pain. I- I can't see. There's something over my eyes." Filara answered.

"Yes. That's why I'm here. Jima asked that I talk to you about that." Lucas admitted. He felt Dalora touch his shoulder. The bomb was ready to drop.

"What? Why?"

"You're blind, Filara. The grenade ruined your eyes." Lucas forced himself to say. Filara's facial features registered distress.

"You mean...permanently?"

"Yes, Filara. I'm sorry."

Lucas wondered if the pained contortions on that Asari's face were similar to the ones he expressed when the same news was given to him. It made it even worse since he knew that he was given redemption in his eyesight returning. She would never have that chance of atonement. He also knew that this bitterness was going to be salted with yet another insult.

Filara was probably suffering from the confusion of what she was feeling. Yes, there was the deep anguish and sorrow but no tears. Lucas remembered that as well since it happened to him too. The tear ducts had been destroyed. She couldn't even shed tears. You'd be amazed how surprisingly comforting they can be, at least, you don't recognize it until its forever gone from you. Even the writer Dante recognized this. In his Divine Comedy he wrote of the especially cursed souls forever damned in hell. Some of them were denied the soothing of tears.

Lucas wasn't sure how long he waited there for Filara to finally cease the anguished cries. Fighting the urge to do something, anything to provide some comfort, he slipped his hand on the Asari's. At least she would know that there was someone despite the permanent darkness. He ignored the pain when her grasp threatened to crush his hand. Finally, she was calming down.

"I'm sorry, Filara, but this isn't the end. You can take this in different ways. I too thought of the same when I was in your place. The blind can lead fulfilling lives. Perhaps you can no longer serve on the _Shiloh_ but that doesn't mean you can't serve a cause that is just as noble, if not better." Lucas said. Filara did not answer and he knew that she was carefully weighing everything he said. He remembered the Asari belief of a cycle of life, consciousness returning from the void.

"You can make a new life for yourself, Filara. I can't point that direction to you. I will pray for you always, though. I hope that you will find your new life calling soon. I'll pray that despite this darkness, what you will do with it will bring more light to others."

The lieutenant and his beloved waited until the Asari drifted back to sleep.

--

The Council medical headquarters became a house of unspoken mourning. Over 90% had become infected with the prion that they had been researching. Each of the doctors would have to deal with it their own way. They all knew the facts. The prion often triggered its effects due to the abundance of its particles in the system. A steady diet of the contaminated plants would fire off the detonation sooner than a one time injection. Because of their limited exposure, they had anywhere between months to decades. Of course, it was inevitable that they had it. There was minimal risk of exposing others to it so long as nothing consumed their tissues.

That was still small comfort. Some could hope that their natural life span would end before they would feel the effects. Most of the Salarians held onto that. Others decided they would deal with it when the time would come. Others found that they would dedicate their research to find a treatment or even a cure. They had a personal stake it in now.

Harrvok was not one of their number. His results came back clean and he was glad when he heard from Lucas that all of the _Shiloh's_ crew were also negative for the prion's presence. There was just one more he had to share the joy with. He practically burst into the morgue.

"Pelona! Pelona, I'm back and I have great news!" the Turian blathered, completely throwing aside his normal, quiet composure.

He was shocked to find Pelona sulking at a desk, quietly weeping.

"Pelona...what's wrong?" Harrvok asked cautiously, coming to the Asari's aid. He was immediately caught off guard when she left her spot and desperately clung to him. The news came in broken laments.

Though both of them had inadvertently avoided the plants, there was still one almost forgotten time when Pelona was exposed to the prion. She herself had to rack her minds to remember it. However, it was decisive and almost an angry twist of fate.

There was that one time she cut her hand with the scalpel when she was cleaning the instruments. The prion had been used to cut the dead bodies that were infected with the protein. The particles had clung to the steel and were undeterred by the simple sterilization process. Most caustic chemicals or a long bath in an autoclave would have done it but that was not part of the standard procedure. Regardless, that scalpel had cut her hand and had in turn given her the prion. She had come back positive.

As Harrvok numbly held onto the devastated Asari, he remembered what Lucas had told him. He now knew what he would have to do. He would be there for the Asari no matter how long. He vowed within himself that night that he would be there for her, even until the bitter end.


	20. Chapter 20

When the end is reached, when the road is ended, the task complete and the journey done, there are still the inevitable small details that need to be set away and put in order. When this new malicious protein, a newly identified prion, was finally verified, the task was done. However, there was still the matter of cleaning up the things that had been left in its wake.

The Citadel Extreme Medical Situations Response team disbanded their camp at the Uruk village shortly after their missing field agent was returned home. The other agent's body would have to be brought back to its next of kin. Meanwhile, the bodies of the former inhabitants of Uruk, their purposes served and their stories told, would be returned to the earth that generated the plants that claimed their lives. Ironically, the very crops they had consumed would ultimately consume them.

Dr. Hiprotos was one of many that turned in their letters of resignation when the mission was over. Many had to re-think their goals and priorities in life as now they knew they had little time left. One of their number, a certain Harrvok Arvinin, chose to continue his work for the Citadel. He was also the one that took gentle care of all the bodies that were buried in a mass grave at Uruk. His colleague, Pelona Sivini, also chose to continue her career. Her research in pathogens has taken a new emphasis as of late. Dr Sivini's latest interests is that of prions.

Sadly, not all from the Uruk expedition chose such quiet or benign courses after their ordeal. In the growing list of tasks for the mortician, a coroner on the Citadel was greeted with yet another body to work on. Working cooperatively with C-Sec, they were able to conclude that this latest addition was a suicide. The neighbors of the deceased Salarian only remembered him becoming very reclusive and quiet, only to live his last three days screaming at night, nightmares that wouldn't let him sleep. Perhaps, like a former co-worker, he chose the pistol's bullet as a hope that it would shut out the demons and give him permanent relief.

--

In the pristine and never changing routines that run the military installation of Jump Zero, an independent frigate made a quick layover. Along its side was the name _SSV Shiloh._ Only three passengers were let off from the ship. Both the human special forces ranger and ship mechanic led a blind Asari as they stepped from the ship.

Filara was still getting used to this world full of noise and sounds but no images and light. She only had the quickly fading memory of such senses. They were cherished and very much missed now. However, she wondered that even after only a few years, would she become used to this new mode of existence? Even after that she probably had another good six maybe even eight more centuries to go.

"Human brains quickly re-wire their themselves if the eyesight is lost. Eventually, the mind is able to more readily able to navigate the body despite being blind. Since Asari minds are much more complex and sophisticated, I'm sure you will be used to this shortly." Lucas explained. Filara twisted her lip in a thoughtful expression. The Asari with the permanent cloth around her head and eyes finally gave her careful answer.

"I do not believe the recovery has occurred just yet. I thank you for your encouragement, though."

"You said you will make your way back to your homeworld. Who will look after you on your way there?" Dalora asked her.

"I made arrangements for my sister to meet me here. I cannot see the time but I'm sure you can tell me if our ship will be arriving shortly."

"I'm glad you will not be alone." Dalora replied, truly sincere. She had felt bad for Filara since the accident.

"What will you do?" Lucas asked.

"I had thought about what you said, Lieutenant. I have made up my mind to become a Siari priestess. I can no longer put broken electronics together but perhaps I can try my hand at peacefully bringing unity to the galaxy." Lucas nodded at the thought.

"As a military chaplain and a former Catholic ministerial student, the unity of my faith has always been one of my passions. Searching and bringing unity in truth is a most noble pursuit. One of the most venerated saints once wrote that you cannot do anything against the truth. You can only do things for it."

"Perhaps one day I will be as wise as you, Lucas."

"Perhaps you already are." the lieutenant simply answered.

Filara's would have to make her own course from here. As for Lucas and Dalora, things did not go as tranquil as they had hoped. Only one day later was Lucas given that dreaded message. An Alliance base in the Styx Eta system was in the middle of an escalating conflict. He was assigned to report within yet another twenty four hours to be shipped out. Dalora would return to her lonely days drudging at the fighters that would need to be maintained, her cat to keep her company but also a new found pilot friend that started tagging along where ever she went. It was Sarah Wallis, the pilot that had spoken with her just before Lucas arrived.

Meanwhile, the lieutenant was shipped off to Styx Eta. On the way he was briefed on the situation. It was an urban conflict with mounting casualties. Alliance infiltrators were badly needed in the tense environment that was quickly becoming a war zone. The reason for this high demand of snipers and infiltrators was their equally high casualty rate. Lucas would again have another conversation with the angel of death.

--

A certain Asari walked through the night while a single large moon hung overhead in the twilight. The surf from a nearby shore could be heard against her footsteps on the stone pavement. Her quest to recalibrate her direction in life brought her here. It was far from her homeworld but even she was surprised that her chance at guidance had also brought her this far. Cautiously, she raised her hand and knocked on the door of a small villa. After a moment, the door opened.

"Nalia? What are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you again too, Matriarch."

--

And at the Gatekeeper facility on Jartar in Hades Gamma, a Council Spectre returned to her posts. Spectre and Doctor Jima'Riznah vas Shiloh walked with a different gait through these sterile halls where deadly secrets were guarded. The doctor was well acquainted with many different biological horrors. However, she also knew that this knowledge was not enough, at least not enough for what she desired. Had her second in command, Commander Julland Sarrix saw the strange, new glint in her eye after the ordeal, he would have seen the next flurry of commands that would be levied on him within the coming days.

Jima'Riznah vas Shiloh, the doctor whose name meant peace would finish her work in overseeing on the construction of the facility. When that was finish she already knew what she would order her ship's commander. The doctor would be taught how to fight and how to command. It would be more rigorous than any surgery her scalpel had cut.

--

_Data files initializing, uploading..._

_Report from Spectre Dr. Jima'Riznah vas Shiloh_

_Personal journal, modified copy sent for Council records_

_File starting..._

_It has been several months since the mission at the Uruk village in the Exodus cluster of Eden Prime. Information is being finalized after intense investigation by medical research and a local archaeologist near the Uruk site who chooses to remain anonymous. _

_The prion, which has been designated after the village it devastated, travels in the plants that grow exclusively in that area. The prion has been found present not only in the plants but also in the subterranean creatures that lived just below the village. The archaeologist's research shows that these creatures were once a secluded civilization that were also dependent on the plants. _

_There are no real reasons why this former people chose to move underground nor is it understood why they have lost their civility and in some sense their sentience. It is theorized that they were also mass infected by the prions but their biology allows them to not be terminally effected by it. In other words, nearly all organisms will lose some amount of their central nervous system to its ravages but this former civilization seemed to have built some imperfect resistance to it. _

_Furthermore, it cannot be ruled out that these creatures were in fact the ones in whom the prion originated and then passed on into the plants. Such a jump has not been documented before in prions but the possibility is there, especially since the prion has shown to effect both plant and animal proteins. The only difference is that the plants have either benefited or suffered no ill effects. Animals do not fare as well. _

_As for the mercenary team that arrived in the area, it has already been established that they specialized in developing biological weapons to add to their income. A prion may not have made the best agent as a biological weapon but it is possible they did not have that information. Considering that we too had to learn this, it is entirely possible that they had dropped in to investigate it as a prospect. Even if they were to find a way to use it as a weapon, it would not have been rapid acting, not enough to make an immediate effect in combat or even terrorist situations. _

_Studies are continuing on those who infected with the protein. Many seemed to have suffered minimal exposure. Therefore, it may take time for the prion to kick in. It may be years even decades before they start to feel its first effects and then there is no telling how long they have before they expire. Many are still leading productive lives. Only about two individuals have shown the first symptoms and are on a heavy vitamin and medicine regimen to slow its effects. Asari patients may provide the best window as to how long its effects can be held off. _

_Personal records _

_As much as I appreciate the loyalty of Julland, my marines and crew, as well as the help from Dalora and Lucas, I can no longer hid behind their abilities. I am resolved to the fact that I was chosen as Spectre. Even if Nalia, darn that woman, chose me for this because of my healing abilities and not my combat prowess, I can no longer sit behind a monitor while my marines and Julland are in the fight. I must be there to help. I must be there if they fall. I must be there to lead. _

_It is so hard. I lock up in combat. Julland's training and patience have been wonderful but I am still so helpless in the simulators. I can only hope to get better before my next mission that involves actual combat situations. _

_I have made my personal vow. I don't care if I am not ready. The next time the Shiloh moves out, no matter how unprepared Julland thinks I am, I will go with them. I will fight with them and heal those who are wounded. I will even die for them. It is better than having my talents and watching them die for me. _

_

* * *

_

Author's Note:

Well, here's another finished story for what's become the Retrovirus series. Thanks to all those who reviewed and gave their input. I hope those of you who have faithfully read it enjoyed it. As always, I am looking for constructive criticism and how the sequel (and who knows, maybe even _sequels_) could be made better. Blessings to you and may you be in good health.


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